BY ALFRED AYRES. 



The Orthoepist. 

A Pronouncing Manual, containing about Four 
Thousand Five Hundred Words, including a 
considerable number of the Names of Foreign 
Authors, Artists, etc., that are often mispro- 
nounced. Revised and Enlarged. i8mo. 
Cloth, $1.25. 

The Verbalist: 

A Manual devoted to Brief Discussions of the 
Right and the Wrong Use of Words, and to 
some other Matters of Interest to those who 
would Speak and Write with Propriety. i8mo. 
Cloth, $1.00. 

The Mentor: 

A Little Book for the Guidance of such Men 
and Boys as would Appear to Advantage in 
the Society of Persons of the Better Sort. 
i8mo. Cloth, $1.00. 

Acting and Actors ; 

Elocution and Elocutionists. With Pref- 
ace by Harrison Grey Fiske ; Introduction by 
Edgar S. Werner ; Prologue by James A. W r al- 
dron. 

Grammar without a Master. 

The English Grammar 

of William Cobbett. Carefully Revised 
and Annotated. i8mo. Cloth, $i.oo. 



New York; D. Appleton & Co., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



THE MENTOR 



A LITTLE BOOK 

FOR THE GUIDANCE OF SUCH MEN AND BOYS 
AS WOULD APPEAR TO ADVANTAGE IN 
THE SOCIETY OF PERSONS OF 
THE BETTER SORT 



BY 

ALFRED AYRES 

AUTHOR OF THE ORTHOEPIST, THE VERBALIST, ETC. 

Sirr^ -<r. (?*»»»«~ 

Virtue itself offends when coupled with 
forbidding manners. — Middleton. 

Well dressed, well bred, well carriaged, 
Is ticket good enough to pass us readily 
Through every door. — Cowper. 

A good manner is the best thing in the 
world, either to get one a good name or to 
supply the want of it. — Anonymous. 




NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
1894 

r 1 




Copyright, 1884, 
By FUNK AND WAGNALLS. 



Copyright, 1894, 
By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 



LC Control Number 




tmp96 031603 



PREFATORY NOTE. 



To select well among old things is almost equal to in- 
venting new ones. — Trublet. 

To be welcome in the society of persons of the 
better sort, who are always persons of culture and 
refinement, we must ourselves be persons of culture 
and refinement, i.e., we must know and practise 
the usages that obtain in refined society, and have 
some acquaintance with letters and art. 

In this world it is only like that seeks like. 
Those that have nothing in common, whose culture 
and breeding are unlike, whose thoughts are on 
different things, never seek the society of one 
another. What points of sympathy are there be- 
tween the town gallant and the country spark, be- 
tween the city belle and the dairymaid ? If one 
would be received in the better social circles, one's 
culture must be of the kind found there, and, above 
all, one's manners must be marked by the observ- 



4 



PREFATORY NOTE. 



ance of those usages that are to refined social com- 
merce what the oil is to the engine. 

It is often said that wealth is the surest passport 
to the better circles of society. Nothing could be 
further from the truth. The surest passport to the 
better circles of society is moral worth, supple- 
mented with education, a thing that is made up of 
two other things — instruction and breeding. True, 
a little money is necessary to make one's self present- 
able, but this iittle will always suffice. Wealth, we 
know, contributes greatly to men's social success, 
and for good and obvious reasons ; but it does not 
contribute more to social success than does distinc- 
tion in intellectual pursuits. Laudable achieve- 
ments will ever have quite as large a following as 
plethoric purses. Lands and goods are not the 
things we set the highest value on, many as there 
are that seem to think so. 

This little book will be, I trust, of some service 
to those men that would better their acquaintance 
with the usages that govern in the polite world ; 
and I am sure that he that learns half as much by 
reading it as I have learned in making it will feel 
well repaid for the time he gives to it. A. A. 



Manners are the ornament of action. — Smiles. 

Manners are the lesser morals of life. — Aristotle. 

Little minds are vexed with trifles. — La Rochefou- 
cauld. 

It is always easy to say a rude thing, but never wise. 

— Stacy. 

Marriage is the true road to Paradise. — De La 
Ferriere. 

Guard the manners if you would protect the morals. — 

Davidson. 

Anger blows out the lamp of the mind. — Robert G. 
Ingersoll. 

Good temper is the essence of good manners. — 

Anonymous. 

Politeness is the expression or imitation of social vir- 
tues. — Duclos. 

Some people get into the bad habit of being unhappy. 
—George Eliot. 



He that has no character is not a man : he is only a 
thing. — Chamfort. 

Contempt should be the best concealed of our senti- 
ments. — Anonymous. 

Sow good services ; sweet remembrances will grow 
from them. — Mme. de Stael. 

Good manners are the shadows of virtues, if not 
virtues themselves. — Anonymous. 

Consideration for woman is the measure of a nation's 
progress in social life. — Gregoire. 

In all professions and occupations, good manners are 
necessary to success. — Mrs. Ward. 

Self-love is a balloon filled with wind, from which tem- 
pests emerge when pricked. — Voltaire. 

Manners are the hypocrisies of nations ; the hypocri- 
sies are more or less perfected. — Balzac. 

An earthly father who cannot govern by affection is 
not fit to be a father. — Robert G. Ingersoll. 

It is generally allowed that the forming and the per- 
fecting of the character is difficult. - Anonymous. 



Respect your wife. Heap earth around that flower, 
but never drop any in the chalice. — A. de Musset. 

Good manners is the art of making easy the persons 
with whom we are btought into contact. — Anonymous. 

One should choose for a wife only such a woman as 
one would choose for a friend, were she a man. — 
Joubert. 

It is a great misfortune not to have enough wit to 
speak well, or not enough judgment to keep silent. — La 
Bruyere. 

Experience and observation in society are the chief 
means by which one acquires the polish that society 
demands. — Anonymous. 

Let what you say be to the purpose, and let it be so 
said that if we forget the speech we may recollect the 
manner of it. — Anonymous. 

The art of conversation consists less in showing one's 
own wit than in giving opportunity for the display of the 
wit of others. —La Bruyere. 

There is no surer proof of low origin, or of an innate 
meanness of disposition, than to be always talking and 
thinking of being genteel, — Hazlitt. 



Were we as eloquent as angels, we should please some 
men, some women, and some children, much more by 
listening than by talking. — Lacon. 

If you speak the sense of an angel in bad words, and 
with a disagreeable utterance, nobody will hear you 
twice who can help it. — Chesterfield. 

One of the most effectual ways of pleasing and of 
making one's self loved is to be cheerful ; joy softens 
more hearts than tears. — Mme. de Sartory. 

To live with our enemies as if they may some time 
become our friends, and to live with our friends as if 
they may some time become our enemies, is not a moral 
but a political maxim. — Anonymous. 

There is no flattery so exquisite as the flattery of listen- 
ing. It may be doubted whether the greatest mind is 
ever proof against it. Socrates may have loved Plato 
best of all his disciples because he listened best. — ■ 

Anonymous. 

Though conversation in its better part 
May be esteemed a gift, and not an art, 
Yet much depends, as in the tiller's toil, 
On culture and the sowing of the soil. 

— COW PER. 



CONTENTS. 



Personal Appearance, page n 

Dress, p. 12. Jewelry, watches, etc., p. 18. The hair, p. 21. 
The beard, p. 22. The nails, p. 24. The teeth, p. 24. Canes, 
p. 27. Full dress, p. 28. Dress at informal gatherings, p. 29, 
etc., etc., etc. 

At the Dinner-table, page 31 

Invitations and answers, p. 32. Punctuality, p. 33. How to 
enter the drawing-room, p. 34. When dinner is announced, 
p. 36. Bearing at the table, p. 37. Soup, p. 39. Fish, p. 40. 
The knife and fork, p. 40. Asparagus, p. 43. The spoon 
controversy, p. 45. Boiled eggs, p. 47. Wine-drinking, p. 53. 
Finger-bowls and doilies, p. 55. When to fold your napkin, 
and when not to, p. 56, etc., etc., etc. 

In Public, page 58 

How to walk, p. 59. To stand, p. 60. To sit, p. 61, Saluta- 
tions, p. 61. The lady — which side in the street, p. 67. In 
public conveyances, p. 67. In a carriage, p. 68. How to carry 
umbrella or cane, p. 68. Hand-shaking, p. 70. Street intro- 
ductions, p. 71. Street recognitions, p. 72. Smoking, p. 73. 
Humming and whistling, p. 76. The ball-room, p. 77. Party 
calls, p. 98. Card-playing, p. 98. Places of amusement, p. 
100. Applause, p. 105. Remain to the end, p. 106. Bar- 



rooms, p. 108, etc., etc. 

Conversation, page 109 

Calls and Cards, " 156 

Odds and Ends, " 169 

What is a Gentleman? 199 



Simple nature, however defective, is better than 
the least objectionable affectatio7i ; and, defects for 
defects, those that are ?tatu?'al are more bearable 
than affected virtues. — Saint-Evremond. 



PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 



Dress changes the manners.— Voltaire. 

Whose garments wither shall receive faded smiles. — 
Sheridan Knowles. 

Men of sense follow fashion so far that they are 
neither conspicuous for their excess nor peculiar by 
their opposition to it. Anonymous. 

The famous French painter, Girard, when quite 
young, was the bearer of a letter of introduction to 
a high officer at the court of Napoleon I. Girard 
was poorly dressed, and his reception was cold ; 
but the courtier discovered in him such evidences 
of talent and good sense that on Girard' s rising to 
take leave, he arose also, and accompanied him to 
the antechamber. 

The change in the courtier's manner was so 
marked that Girard could not suppress an expres- 
sion of surprise. 



12 



THE MENTOR. 



" My young friend,'' said the courtier, " we re- 
ceive strangers according to their dress ; we take 
leave of them according to their merits." 

Good clothes are far from being sufficient to gain 
one admittance to the better circles of society, but 
without them admittance is impossible. When we 
go out into the world, it is not sufficient to do as 
others do, we must also dress as others dress. 

He is best dressed whose dress attracts least 
attention ; and in order not to attract attention, 
one's dress must be seasonable, appropriate, con- 
form to the prevailing fashion, without going in the 
least beyond it, and appear to be comfortable. 

It requires something more than a full purse to 
enable one to dress well : it requires sense, taste, 
refinement. Indeed, dress may be considered in 
the light of a fine art. It is a pretty sure index < f 
character, and few dress really well that would not 
be considered persons of culture. 

In dress, as in all things else, the golden rule is 
to avoid extremes. The man of sense and taste 
never wears anything that is " loud," flashy, or 
peculiar ; he yields always to fashion, but never is 
a slave to it. 



PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 



13 



The first thing to be considered in the replenish- 
ing of one's wardrobe is the material. This should 
always be good. Low priced stuffs are rarely, if 
ever, cheap, and they are certainly not cheap un- 
less, though low-priced, they are of good quality. 
As a rule, one suit of clothes that costs fifty dollars 
does more service than two suits that cost the same 
sum. And then the low-priced suit never looks 
well, while the high-priced suit looks well to the 
last, if it is kept clean and care is taken to have it 
occasionally pressed into shape — a fact that few men 
properly appreciate. 

" Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, 

But not expressed in fancy ; rich, not gaudy, 
For the apparel oft proclaims the man." 

There is but one way to get a good-fitting shirt, 
and that is to have it made. Nor is this all. You 
must try one on and have it " fitted," and then 
have the others made exactly like the pattern shirt. 
Nearly every man has one shoulder lower than the 
other, and if this peculiarity is not considered, the 
bosom of a shirt will never sit smoothly. It will 
bulge on the low-shoulder side. For several rea- 



14 



77//: M EX TOR. 



sons it is better to have shirts made open in the back. 
Yet open- backed shirts are less worn now than they 
were ; indeed, the fastidious nowadays wear only 
shirts open in front. They fit better around the 
neck. It is better to have the collar separate and 
for some reasons the cuffs also — dress shirts except- 
ed, perhaps. Let your collars always be in and 
strictly within the fashion, unless you would look 
like a rowdy, in which case you are at liberty to go 
to any extreme you please and to gratify any vulgar 
caprice you may chance to have. Your cuffs 
should be no larger than is necessary to admit of 
your slipping your hand through them when they 
are buttoned. Why should a man wear a cuff so 
large that one may see up to his elbow ? A cuff so 
large that it slips down over the hand has an un- 
aesthetic, slouchy look, besides being in the way 
and being very uncomfortable in warm weather. 
Colored shirts may be worn travelling, in the 
country, and, some say, in the morning in town ; 
but most men of taste prefer white. The pattern 
of colored shirts should always be small and the 
color quiet. 

If the coat, trousers, and vest of business and 



PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 15 

morning suits are not made of the same cloth, the 
coat and vest should be of the same, and be darker 
than the trousers. Men that cannot or do not 
choose to spend much money with their tailor, 
should always select dark stuffs. A dark morning 
suit may be worn on many occasions where the 
wearing of a light suit would be in singularly bad 
taste. The fashion should be followed, but be- 
ware of going to extremes, if you would not be 
taken for one of those vulgar, empty-headed* fops 
that, if spring-bottomed trousers, for example, are 
the mode, insist on theirs being made to bell out at 
the bottom till their legs look as though they had 
been put on bottom up. The wrinkles and 
" knees" should be pressed out of trousers about 
every two weeks. The more closely woven the 
cloth the longer a garment keeps its shape. The 
vest should be kept buttoned from bottom to top, 
and the buttons on both coat and vest should be 
renewed as soon as they begin to show the effects 
of wear. There is always something " Jakey" in 
the appearance of a man that goes about with his 
vest half buttoned. Both coat and vest should be 
made snug around the waist and loose over the 

2 



16 



THE MENTOR. 



chest. A garment that is tight around the waist 
tends to make the wearer stand straight, while one 
that is tight over the chest tends to make him 
stoop. The carriage of men that do not wear sus- 
penders is generally better than that of men that do 
wear them. If a single-breasted garment is too 
tight over the chest, the trouble is generally beyond 
remedy, as the tailor cannot add to the front ; in a 
double-breasted garment, the moving of the buttons 
generally suffices. 

Single-breasted overcoats, made with a "fly," 
are most worn, and are, from every point of view, 
the most desirable. A short-waisted, double- 
breasted overcoat has been a good deal worn by 
quite young men of late. It is fashionable, and 
would, perhaps, become generally popular, if it did 
not tend to make the wearer look like a footman. 
The man of taste always selects for his overcoats 
dark, quiet colors. 

There is nothing a man wears in which he shows 
his sense or his want of it more than in his boots 
and shoes. The man of sense and taste has his 
shoes made long, broad in the sole and in the 
shank, and with a big and only moderately high 



PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 1? 



heel. No matter what the fashion chances to be, 
if you see a man that pinches his toes, you may be 
sure it would take a very small hat to pinch his 
head. The shoe that does not look comfortable 
never looks well. There are many of the New 
York women that wear shoes that distort the feet 
and are most uncomfortable ; such shoes, however, 
are rarely, if ever, seen on the feet of the New York 
ladies. Many persons have one foot longer than 
the other. In such cases, the shoe for the longer 
foot must be made longer than the other, otherwise 
the longer foot will look to be the shorter when 
clothed. This is something that few shoemakers 
know. The cloth of the tops of gaiters should 
always be dark. Fancy shoe leather is, if possible, 
more offensive than flashy neckties. Short, narrow- 
toed, high-heeled shoes often cause the big-toe 
nails to grow into the flesh. If taken in time, the 
trouble is easily remedied by scraping the nail on 
the top, cutting it in a semilunar form, with the 
concavity looking forward, and raising the corners 
and putting a bit of cork or cotton under them. 
The nails of the big toes should always be thus cut, 
care being taken to leave the corners long. 



18 



THE MENTOR. 



In nothing that a man wears is it less desirable 
— in New York, at least — to be among the first to 
adopt a new fashion than in the hat, especially the 
silk hat. Here, the new styles in silk hats are first 
seen, as a rule, on the heads of the ward politicians, 
the keepers of the drinking saloons, and the gam- 
blers. The least desirable hat for city wear is the 
soft felt. Besides having a slouchy look, it is not 
easy to get it off one's head gracefully in saluting 
an acquaintance in the street. They are little worn 
by any but a few long-haired men, who affect the 
picturesque 

A man's jewelry should be good and simple. 
False jewelry, like every other form of falsehood, 
is vulgar. Unlike a woman's jewelry, a man's 
should always seem to serve a purpose. To this 
rule there is, as we shall see, but one exception. 

A man's watch, to be in thoroughly good taste, 
should never be very large, nor very thick, nor 
elaborately chased, nor should it have a hunting- 
case, unless his business or pleasure renders him 
liable to break a crystal, when he is out of the easy 
reach of a jeweller to replace it. Very large, fanci- 
fully chased watches always have a common, cheap 



PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 



19 



look ; no man of any taste ever chooses one. As a 
rule, the more valuable the watch the plainer the 
case. The hunting- cased watch is carried largely 
by men that, in a measure at least, want a watch 
for the same reason that a peacock wants a tail. 
Probably as desirable a watch, in apppearance at 
least, as could be found anywhere, is a plain cased, 
open-faced watch, sold by Tiffany & Co. It has 
what they call their extra thin movement. Noth- 
ing in the way of a watch could be more tasteful. 

The watch-chain should always be small and the 
pattern plain. If the links are chased, the chasing 
must not be elaborate. Nothing does more 
toward vulgarizing a man's appearance than a big, 
elaborately chased watch-chain. Indeed, the young 
man that wears such a chain and attaches it 
in one of the lower button-holes of his vest has 
taken a long stride toward making himself look 
like a barber s apprentice. Watch-chains that go 
around the neck are no longer worn. The vest- 
chain should be attached nearly as high up as it 
will reach, in a button-hole, and not in a hole 
specially made for the purpose. 

If a locket or seal is worn, it should be very 



20 



THE M EX TOR. 



plain. If a man wears a ring, it should be on the 
third finger of the left hand. This is the only 
piece of jewelry a man is allowed to wear that does 
not seem to serve a purpose. Some Englishmen 
of culture and high social position wear nowadays 
more than one ring, and wear rings on the little 
ringer as well as on the third ; but this is an ex- 
ample that neither taste nor discretion would coun- 
sel an American to follow. All kinds of rings are 
worn by men except cluster rings ; they are worn 
by women only. Scarf-rings and collar-buttons 
with settings are in very bad taste. Diamond studs 
are not worn by men of the better sort, even when 
in evening dress ; they are considered vulgar and 
ostentatious. Three studs in a dress shirt are to be 
preferred to one. Indeed, the single stud is as unar- 
tistic as anything well could be. Fashion changes 
in jewelry, as in everything else ; but if a man fol- 
lows the lule : "Plain, good, and seem to serve a 
purpose," he will never go far wrong. 

It should not be necessary to add that the wear- 
ing of imitation diamonds is the very extreme of 
vulgarity. A man of taste would as soon be seen 
with rings in his ears as with an imitation diamond 



PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 



21 



pin or stud in his shirt bosom. The genuine dia- 
mond or none, and that never in a breastpin, un- 
less you do not object to being taken for a horse- 
jockey ; and never in a stud, unless you are in full 
evening dress, and, even then, plain gold or white en- 
amelled studs are to be preferred. Scarf-pins should, 
in strictness, be worn only in Claudent, Ascot, and 
puff scarfs ; permissible, however, in four-in-hands. 

Nowadays, with few exceptions, men wear the 
hair very short, and the exceptions are not found 
among men of taste. The most artistic and be- 
coming cut is that that trims the hair very short on 
the sides and back of the head, and leaves it com- 
paratively long on the top, for the reason that a 
high head is always more pleasing than a low, 
broad one. The " part" should be high up— in the 
middle, if one chooses to put it there. Parting the 
hair down the back of the head, as some men do, 
is only a little less objectionable than the plastering 
of a lock down on the forehead — a fashion much 
affected by bartenders and waiters in oyster saloons. 
The head should be frequently washed, especially 
in warm weather ; otherwise, the hair will have a 
disagreeable odor. Brushing with a brush that 



22 



THE MENTOR. 



reaches the skin tends to keep the hair from falling 
out. Pomatums and other inventions of the bar- 
bers are no longer used. 

Most men look best with a full beard, if it is 
kept properly trimmed and is otherwise properly 
cared for. A man with a beard that reaches down 
over his chest or with a moustache that is so long 
as to be in the way is a disgusting object to look 
on. Men that wear such beards are generally 
men that are not happy unless they make donkeys 
of themselves in some way — if not in one, then in 
another. If a man shaves a part of the face only, 
he should shave that part that is most prominent. 
A man with a prominent chin and thin cheeks 
should shave his chin and let his beard grow on the 
sides of his face ; on the contrary, a man with a 
retreating or a light chin and full cheeks should 
shave his cheeks and let his beard grow on his chin. 
In short, the beard should be so trimmed, if worn 
full, or so cut, if only a part is worn, as to give 
regularity to the outline of the face. The eccen- 
tricities some men indulge in in cutting their 
beards is in very bad taste ; so also is the training 
of the moustache to the right and the left a la 



PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 23 

grenadier. This practice gives a man the appear- 
ance of having nothing else to do or to think of ; 
and then it is pretty sure to get him into the habit 
of continually tugging at his moustache — a habit 
that is not quite so bad as would be that of sucking 
his fingers, but the difference is not great. The 
color nature has given to a man's beard is always 
the one best suited to his complexion. He that 
changes that color, no matter what the color is, 
only vulgarizes his appearance. 

Every man, no matter who he is, should be able 
to shave himself quickly and well. If he has diffi- 
culty in learning to use the razor, he should per- 
severe in his endeavors to learn, allowing nothing 
short of the loss of at least one ear to discourage 
him. The man that shaves at all should shave 
every day ; no man looks presentable with a two 
days' growth of beard on his face. Shaving should 
be as much a part of the regular morning toilet as 
the brushing of the hair. Several razors are neces- 
sary, as all razors "tire" by continual use. The 
microscope has shown that this tiring is due to the 
disarranging of the particles of the steel, and that 
when a razor is allowed to rest for a sufficient length 



i 



24 



THE M EX TOR. 



of time, the particles readjust themselves, restor- 
ing the razor to its original usefulness. Much de- 
pends on having a good strap and knowing how to 
use it. 

The nails should be kept moderately long — very 
short nails have a plebeian look— and be so cut 
that they are a little more pointed than the upper 
ends of the nails are. They should not be scraped, 
and in cutting care should be taken not to 
encroach too much on the angles. Either prac- 
tice, in time, results in serious injury. They can- 
not be kept in good shape without using a file. 
Of course the nails should be kept scrupulously 
clean. 

The teeth of most persons, if properly cared for 
from childhood, will not only never ache, but will 
also last a lifetime. But how few sets of teeth are 
properly cared for from childhood ! The condi- 
tion of their children's teeth is a matter that com- 
paratively few parents pay any attention to until the 
children complain of having the toothache, whereas 
they should see that their children's teeth are kept 
scrupulously clean, that the cavities in them are 
rilled before they get large enough to do any serious 



PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 



25 



harm, and that a dentist's aid is called in, if neces- 
sary, to secure regularity. Art can do more — 
much more — than most people think to make a 
child's teeth grow in regular. It has been olten 
said that the chief reason so many Americans 
have bad teeth is that they eat so much candy and 
other sweetmeats. This is an error. This is not 
the chief reason. The chief reason is that we, in 
common with many persons of other nations, do 
not use our teeth sufficiently ; we live almost ex- 
clusively on food that requires very little masticat- 
ing ; and as for the front teeth, we scarcely use 
them at all. The child that is fed on hard-tack is 
likely to have much better teeth than the child that 
is fed on porridge. Next to disuse, acids — pickles, 
lemons, and the like — probably do the teeth most 
harm. Then come the practices that tend to dis- 
arrange the stomach — eating between meals and the 
eating of unwholesome food — and the habit of 
breathing with the mouth open. 

There are many foolish persons that think that 
dentists do more harm than good, and that some 
of them do not hesitate to bore holes in their 
patients' teeth, and then fill them in order to in- 



26 



THE MENTOR. 



crease the amount of their bills. They do nothing 
of the sort. Not that there are no dentists that 
would be sufficiently dishonest to do such a thing, 
but they would not get paid for their labor, it 
would be so great. The chief harm dentists do is 
in extracting aching teeth, in compliance with the 
wishes of their patients, when the teeth should be 
treated and preserved by filling. A tooth must be 
in a sorry condition when a dentist will extract it 
for one of his own family. Let any one that 
would keep his teeth go to a good dentist, and 
submit to his discretion, and not presume to dictate 
in a matter he knows nothing about. No man 
that does not keep his teeth clean looks like a 
gentleman, if he shows them. If one's teeth have 
been neglected until they have become discolored 
and have accumulated a covering of tartar, one must 
first go to a dentist and have the discoloration and 
tartar removed, after which it is not a difficult 
matter to keep them in good condition. A tooth- 
brush should not be too wide, and should be used 
on one row of teeth at a time. A very wide brush, 
used on both rows at a time, never reaches the 
edges of the gum — the points where the tartar 



PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 27 



always begins to accumulate. The tooth-powder 
used must be soluble ; if it is not, it gets between 
the gums and the neck of the tooth, remains there, 
and tends to inflame the periosteum. For this 
reason, neither pulverized charcoal nor cigar-ashes 
should be used. As a brush does not reach be- 
tween the teeth, a sharpened stick should occasion- 
ally be used with a powder. At long intervals a 
little pumice-stone, if necessary, may also be used 
with a stick, but great care should be taken not to 
let it get under the edge of the gums. Dentists 
generally use orange wood. 

Men that do not have their hair frequently cut, 
keep, their faces clean shaven, and their teeth clean 
are never welcome in the society of ladies, should 
they chance to know any. They may be well re- 
ceived by women of the lower orders, but women 
that are ladies are never drawn toward men that do 
not have the appearance of being neat in their per- 
sons. Ladies may and often do tolerate such 
men ; in fact, they are often compelled to tolerate 
them, but they generally do it with ill-concealed 
reluctance. 

Men of taste that carry canes select those that are 



28 



THE M EX TOR. 



strong, plain, stiff, light, and small. Very large 
canes are in very bad taste, especially for young 
men. 

A few hints concerning the wearing of a man's 
clothes should suffice. 

A full-dress suit consists of a swallow-tailed coat, 
a low white or black single-breasted vest, black 
trousers, a white necktie, a stand-up collar, (?) a 
high black hat, and, properly, of a pair of very 
light kid gloves. 

This dress should never be worn until evening, 
i.e., never previously to the dinner hour, no matter 
what the occasion. There are a few men, in the 
large cities, where they dine late — at six or seven 
o'clock — that put on their dress suits regularly 
every day before dinner and wear them for the rest 
of the day. 

A white necktie should never be worn except 
with a full-dress suit, save by clergymen and a few 
elderly men that never wear any other color. 

Black trousers should never be worn except with 
a dress coat, save at funerals. 

A high hat should not be worn with a sack coat, 
especially if the color is light. 



PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 29 



A low hat should not be worn with a long coat 
— a double-breasted frock, for example. 

Straw hats should be worn only with light sum- 
mer suits. 

Dark suits are to be preferred for Sundays, 
especially in town, and light suits should never be 
worn to church anywhere. 

Double-breasted frock coats should always be of 
black or gray material. 

At small, informal gatherings most men con- 
sider themselves sufficiently dressed when they wear 
black frock coats and dark trousers. Indeed, there 
is no good reason why men should appear in full 
dress on any occasion where the ladies do not wear 
full dress. At public entertainments, for example, 
where the ladies wear their bonnets, the man that 
wears a black frock coat, dark trousers, and light 
kid gloves is better dressed — because more appro- 
priately — than he that wears a full- dress suit. True, 
the practice of wearing such a suit on such occa- 
sions entails additional expense, as otherwise a busi- 
ness or walking suit and a dress suit may be made 
to serve for all occasions. 

At home, the first consideration with pretty nearly 



30 



77/ A' M EX TOR . 



even- man will always be comfort. No man, how- 
ever, that has any regard for the proprieties will ever 
appear at the table, whether there are any strangers 
present or not, or will show himself to any one with 
whom he is not on a familiar footing, in his shirt- 
sleeves. 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE. 



Good humor makes one dish a feast. — Washington. 

Animals feed, men eat ; but only men of intelligence 
know how to eat. — Brillat Savarin. 

Some philosopher has very truthfully said that he 
must be a very great man that can afford to ignore 
social observances. He might have added that of 
all places — in English-speaking countries at least — 
the one where a man can least afford to ignore 
social observances is the dinner-table. It is there 
that the well-bred man and the ill-bred man are the 
most strongly contrasted ; and the man that does 
not there conform to those usages that constitute 
what is called manners is likely soon to find the 
doors of the better houses closed against him. In- 
deed, such men are not likely ever to find their way 
within them. 

w Dinner-parties rank first among all entertain- 
3 



32 



THE MENTOR. 



ments, being of more frequent occurrence, and 
having more social significance than any other form 
of entertainment. An invitation to dinner conveys 
a greater mark of esteem, or friendship and cor- 
diality toward the guest invited, than is conveyed 
with an invitation to any other social gathering, it 
being the highest social compliment that is offered 
by one person to another. It is also a civility that 
can be easily interchanged, which in itself gives it 
an advantage over all other civilities." 

An invitation to dine should be promptly replied 
to, w r hether you accept or decline. It may run 
thus : 

Mr. and Mrs. request the favor [or pleasure] 

of Mr. 's company at dinner on day, the 

, at d clock. 

The reply, if an acceptance, may be worded 
thus : 

Mr. has the pleasure to accept Mr. and Mrs. 

' s kind inviiation to dinner on the . 

If the invitation be declined, some good reason 
should be stated : 

Mr. regrets that, owing to a previous engage- 
ment [or in co?iseque?tce of leaving town, etc. ] he cannot 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE. 



33 



have the pleasure of accepting Mr. and Mrs. ' s 

kind invitation for the . 

The answer, whether affirmative or negative, 
should be addressed to the mistress of the house, 
and despatched within twenty-four hours, if possi- 
ble, of the receipt of the invitation. 

Having accepted an invitation, be punctual. , 
" To be too late is a crime, and to be too early a 
blunder. 7 ' You should not fail to arrive within a 
very few minutes after the time named, say within 
five, or ten at most. " Dinner/' somebody has 
said, " is the hope of the hungry, the occupation 
of the idle, the rest of the weary, and the consola- 
tion of the miserable !'' It is certainly the event 
of the day that should be honored with punctuality. 
In general, well-bred people and people that dine 
out frequently, make a point of arriving in good 
time. It is not well to arrive before the hour 
named, as you might find no one in the drawing- 
room to receive you. 

" It is said that Beau Brummell had, among 
other follies, that of choosing to be always too late 
for dinner.. Whenever he was invited he liked to 
be waited for. He considered it a proof of his fash- 



3-4 



THE M EX TOR. 



ion and consequence ; and the higher the rank of 
his entertainer, the later was the arrival of this im- 
pudent parvenu. The Marquis of Abercorn had 
on several occasions submitted silently to this trial 
of his patience, but at length he resolved to bear it 
no longer. Accordingly, one day, when he had 
invited Brummeli to dine, he desired to have the 
dinner on the table punctually at the appointed 
time. The servants obeyed, and Brummeli and 
the cheese arrived together. The wondering Beau 
was desired by the master of the house to sit 
down. He vouchsafed no apology for what had 
happened, but coolly said, ' I hope, Mr. Brum- 
meli, cheese is not disagreeable to you.' The 
story runs that Brummeli was never again late at 
that house/' 

On entering the drawing-room, without looking 
to the right or the left, you will go and pay your 
respects to the hostess, then to the other members 
of the family, and finally to any acquaintances you 
may recognize. 

Should you be stopped, on your way to the 
hostess, by an acquaintance ignorant of the pro- 
prieties, you will not refuse to respond to his greet- 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE. 



35 



ing, but will make the response as brief as civility 
will permit. 

Take good care that you do not offer your hand 
either to hostess, host, or to any other member of 
the family. For obvious reasons, any offer to 
shake hands should come from them. 

On leaving, you may offer your hand to those of 
your entertainers that offered their hands to you 
when you arrived. But if the family is large, it is 
as well to confine your formal leave-taking to the 
hostess and the host. It is better not to go about the 
drawing-room to hunt up and take leave of all the 
members of the family, as some men do, especially 
if you are among the first to take leave. Of course 
it is still worse to go the rounds and take leave of the 
whole company individually. In such a proceed- 
ing there is always something egotistic and patron- 
izing. In a word, never make more ado in leave-tak- 
ing, whatever the occasion, than is really necessary. 

If there is a lady with you, you will not enter the 
drawing-room arm in arm nor side by side. The 
lady, or the ladies — if more than one — will enter 
the room in advance of you. 

Gentlemen do not wear gloves at dinner-parties. 



36 



THE MENTOR. 



When dinner is announced, the hostess will give 
the signal to leave the drawing-room. A gentleman 
does not choose the lady he will take in to din- 
ner. The choice is made for him either by his host 

• 

or his hostess. Offer whichever arm you please. 
On this point the authorities differ. Most men 
prefer to have a lady take the right arm. In some 
countries this is a matter of real importance, the 
right side being the place of honor. In passing 
through doors you will take the lead, until you 
reach the dining room, when you may let the lady 
pass first. Should there be a flight of steps to de- 
scend that are so narrow that it is necessary to pro- 
ceed single file, you may allow the lady to pass 
first, or — better perhaps — go a step or two in ad- 
vance of her. If you go down side by side, give 
her the side toward the wall. 

Arrived at the dining-room, you will assist your 
lady to be seated, and wait till all the other ladies 
are in their places before you take your seat. The 
host remains standing in his place until all his 
guests are seated. 

Abroad, the question of precedency is a very im- 
portant one. In this country it is perhaps suffi- 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE. 



37 



cient for the younger persons to yield the pas to the 
older in passing from the drawing-room to the 
dining-room. 

A man's bearing at the table depends very much 
upon the distance he sits from it. He should sit 
rather close ; indeed, it is rare that we see any one 
sit too near the table, while we often see people sit 
too far from it. This is a fault that is wellnigh 
universal with the Germans — a people whose table 
manners I would not counsel any one to copy. 
Sit close to the table, and sit erect. 

If no grace is said, you will immediately proceed 
to unfold your napkin and spread it over your lap. 
There are those that would tell you partly to unfold 
it and throw it over one knee ; others would tell you 
to throw it over both knees ; but when it is simply 
thrown over your knees, it cannot serve the pur- 
pose for which it is supplied — that of protecting 
your clothing. In fact, the clothing of no man 
that has a heavy moustache is out of danger, unless 
he virtually makes a bib of his napkin, a thing that 
from time immemorial has been considered a sin 
against good usage. Men that are not slaves to 
fickle fashion, to the dicta of nobody knows whom, 



38 



THE MENTOR. 



will use their napkins so as to accomplish the object 
for which they are provided. A man of sense, 
however, will consider the occasion, and be gov- 
erned somewhat by it. 

Previously to being served and during the waits 
that occur between the courses, do not play with 
the knives, the forks, the spoons, or with anything 
that is before you. Leave everything as you find 
it, unless you should find a piece of bread on your 
right hand, in which case you may remove it to 
your left. 

As soon as you are helped, begin to eat, or at 
least begin to occupy yourself with what you have 
before you. Do not wait till your neighbors are 
served — a custom that was long ago abandoned. 

Never offer to pass to another a plate to which 
you have been helped. What your host or hostess 
sends you you should retain. 

The second course, at all formal dinners, how- 
ever served, is usually a soup, which, if its consis- 
tency and the beard on your upper lip will admit 
of it, you will take from the side of the spoon, be- 
ing careful the while to make no noise. Better far 
to put your spoon into your mouth, handle and 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE, 39 



all, than to make a noise in sipping your soup, as 
some people do, that can be heard all over the 
dining-room ; better also put your spoon into your 
mouth than to slobber or to bespatter yourself. 
The writer would have to materially shorten his 
moustache, or to go without his daily dish of soup, 
if he had to take it from the side of the spoon. 
He is not willing to do either. Soup, when prac- 
ticable, should be sipped from the side of the 
spoon, not, as most people suppose, because there 
is any objection to putting a spoon in the mouth, 
but because to put the spoon in the mouth the 
elbow must be extended, whereas, when we sip 
from the side of the spoon, the elbow remains 
almost stationary at the side, the spoon being 
manipulated wholly with the forearm— a much more 
graceful movement, because simpler than that that 
the putting of the spoon in the mouth renders 
necessary. Not only soup, but everything else 
eaten with a spoon should be sipped from its side 
when practicable, but then only. For any one 
to attempt to sip from the side of the spoon certain 
soups that are usually served nearly as thick as por- 
ridge — pea, bean, and tomato with rice, for example 



40 



THE MENTOR. 



— is absurd. Nothing has a more vulgar look than 
an obvious endeavor to be fine. The spoon 
should be filled by an outward rather than an in- 
ward movement, and the plate should never be 
tilted to get the last teaspoonful. If your soup is 
too hot, do not blow it, but wait till it cools. In 
eating it sit upright, and do not rest your forearms 
on the table. 

Silver fish-knives are now found on most tables. 
Where there are none, fish should be eaten with a 
bit of bread in the left hand and a fork in the 
right. Neither soup nor fish, where there is any 
ceremony, is ever offered, much less accepted, 
twice. 

At the table, the most difficult and the most im- 
portant thing to learn is to use the knife and fork 
thoroughly well. To do this both must be so held 
that the ends of the handles are directly in the 
palms of the hand, i.e., when the point of the knife 
is used. 

At all tables where four-tined forks are provided, 
the knife should be used only to divide the food, 
never to convey it to the mouth. For this purpose, 
we use either the fork, a spoon, or the fingers. 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE. 



41 



As the fork is now used almost exclusively to 
convey all kinds of food that have any consistency 
to the mouth, it is very desirable that one should 
know how to use it properly. There is a right and 
a wrong way, a skilful and an awkward way to use 
it, as well as to use any other implement. 

The fork must not be used in the left hand with 
the tines pointing upward, i.e., spoon fashion. 
Persons that so use it, though they may and gen- 
erally do think they are doing quite the proper 
thing, are really doing as awkward a thing as it 
'would be possible for them to do at the table. 
They have — they will doubtless be surprised to hear 
— their lesson but half learned. 

Food that is conveyed to the mouth with the 
fork held in the left hand should be taken up either 
on the point of the tines, or on their convex side. 
In the right hand, the fork may be used with the 
tines pointing upward or downward, as one will. 

Previously to the advent of the four-tined silver 
fork, which was introduced into England from the 
Continent about the year 1814 or 181 5, everybody 
ate with the knife— the Chesterfields, the Brum- 
mels, the Blessingtons, the Savarins, and all. The 



42 



THE MUX TOR. 



fastidious were very careful, however, not to put 
the knife into the mouth edge first. That was 
avoided by the well bred then as much as the put- 
ting the knife into the mouth at all is avoided by 
the well bred now. 

Eating with the knife is not, in itself, a grievous 
offence ; it does not, as some pretend, endanger 
the lips, even though the knife is used edge first. 
It is simply a matter of prejudice. Yet your lady 
hostess would rather you would speak ill of her 
friends and make bad puns than eat with your 
knife at her table. Why ? Because your eating 
with your knife at her table would argue, nowa- 
days, that she associated with low-bred, uncultured 
people. 

Should you, however, find yourself at a table 
where they have the old-fashioned steel forks, eat 
with your knife, as the others do, and do not let it 
be seen that you have any objection to doing so, 
nor let it be known that you ever do otherwise. 
He that advised us "to do in Rome as the Ro- 
mans do" was a true gentleman. 

The fork is used in eating such vegetables as can 
be easily managed with it ; those that cannot be 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE. 43 



easily managed with it are eaten with a dessert- 
spoon — peas, stewed tomatoes, and succotash, for 
example, especially when they are served in small 
dishes. A high English authority says : " Eat 
peas with a dessert-spoon, and curry also/' 

Asparagus may be handled with the fingers of the 
left hand. So may Saratoga potatoes and olives. 
On this subject we recently clipped the following 
paragraph from one of our periodicals : " That 
there is a variety of ways to eat asparagus, one may 
convince one's self by a single visit to the dining- 
room of any of our fashionable summer hotels. 
There one will see all the methods of carrying the 
stalk to the mouth. But the Paris Figaro, in one 
of its ' Conseils par Jour/ on ' How is Asparagus 
Eaten in Good Society ? ' says : ' One must care- 
fully abstain from taking the stalk in the fingers to 
dip it in the sauce and afterward put it in the 
mouth, as a great many people do. The tip should 
be cut off and eaten by means of the fork, the rest 
of the stalk being laid aside on the plate, of course 
without being touched by the fingers. Those that 
proceed in any other way are barbarians/ We 
may observe, in reply to ' Pau de Paris/ that many 



44 



THE MENTOR. 



persons belonging to the best society do not hesi- 
tate to eat asparagus a la bonne franquette % and yet 
are by no means ' barbarians/ We do not agree 
with our confrere for two reasons. In the first 
place, the exquisite vegetable cannot be properly 
appreciated unless eaten in the way that excites the 
ire of our contemporary. Our second reason is 
that, from an art point of view, there cannot be a 
more charming sight than to see a pretty woman 
' caressing ' a piece of asparagus. " 

Green corn should be cut from the cob and then 
eaten with a fork. First run your knife through 
the middle of each row of kernels and then cut 
them off. A dull knife is the best, because it does 
not really cut the kernels off, but forces them out 
of the hulls. 

Cheese is eaten with a fork, or is placed, with a 
knife, on bits of bread and carried to the mouth 
with the thumb and finger, care being taken not to 
touch the cheese. 

Pies and pates, as a rule, are eaten with a fork 
only. Sometimes, however, it is necessary to use 
a knife to divide the crust, but not often. 

li Jellies, blanc- mange, iced puddings, and the 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE. 



45 



like are eaten, " says an English authority, ''with 
a fork, as are all sweets sufficiently substantial to 
admit of it." This may be very sensible, but it 
will seem to many persons, as it does to the writer, 
to be very senseless. By and by the fork mania 
will banish the spoon altogether. 

In a late number of the London Queen this fork- 
and-spoon question is discussed as follows : " But 
to go back to the debatable lands of our own com- 
patriots, and the odd things that some do, and the 
undecided cases that still give rise to controversy. 
There is that battlefield of the fork and the spoon, 
and whether the former ought to be used for all 
sweets whatsoever, with the exception of custard 
and gooseberry food, which answer the question for 
themselves ; or whether it is not better to use a 
spoon where slipperiness is an element, and ' the 
solution of continuity ' a condition. Some people 
hunt their ice, for example, with a fork, which lets 
the melting margin drop through the prongs ; and 
some stick their small trident into jelly, at the risk of 
seeing the whole thing slip off like an amorphous, 
translucent, gold-colored snake. The same with 
such compounds as custard pudding, crime ren- 



46 



THE MENTOR. 



verse^ and the like, where it is a feat of skill to 
skewer the separate morsels deftly, and where a 
small sea of unutilized juice is left on the plate. 
This monotonous use of the fork and craven fear 
of the vulgarity lying in the spoon seems to us 
mere table snobbery. It is a well-known English 
axiom that the fork is to be used in preference to 
the spoon when possible and convenient. But 
the people who use it always — when scarcely possi- 
ble and decidedly inconvenient — are people so des- 
perately afraid of not doing the right thing, that they 
do the wrong out of very flunkey ism and of fear 
of Mrs. Grundy in the corner. It is the same with 
the law of eating all soft meats with the fork only, 
abjuring the knife. On the one hand, } : ou will sec 
people courageously hewing with their knives at 
sweetbread, suprtme de volailh, and the like ; on 
the other, the snobbish fine work themselves into 
a fever with their forks against a cutlet, and 
would not for the lives of them use a knife to 
cut with ease that which by main force and at 
great discomfort they can tear asunder with a 
fork." 

If you have occasion to help yourself from a 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE. 47 



dish, or if any one else helps you, move your plate 
quite close to the dish. 

At a dinner served in courses, it is better, as a 
rule, not to take a second supply of anything. It 
might delay the dinner. 

The English eat boiled eggs from the shell, a 
custom that is followed to some extent in this coun- 
try ; but most Americans prefer to break them, or 
to have them broken, into a glass, a mode that 
certainly has its advantages, and that will commend 
itself to those that have not time to dawdle over 
their breakfast. In noticing a little book on man- 
ners that recently appeared, the New York Sun 
feelingly inveighs in this wise against eating boiled 
eggs from a glass : 

" We are glad to think that the time has gone 
by when Americans with any pretensions to refine- 
ment needed to be informed that an egg beaten up 
in a glass is an unsightly mess that has often turned 
the stomach of the squeamish looker-on. Those 
who cannot learn to eat boiled eggs from the shell 
will do well to avoid them altogether. If the 
author of this hand-book had watched American 
experiments with exhaustive attention, he might 
4 



48 



THE MENTOR. 



have deemed it well to add that no part of the con- 
tents of the egg should be allowed to drip down the 
outside of the shell, and that the eggshell, when 
depleted, should be broken before being deposited 
on the plate. ' ' 

It would seem to be as unpleasant to the writer 
of this paragraph to see an egg eaten from a glass 
as it is to a Bavarian to see a man wait till he gets 
over the threshold of a lager-beer saloon before he 
takes his hat off. A matter of mere prejudice in 
both cases. If. an egg broken into a glass is really 
"an unsightly mess/'' then let us have some 
opaque egg-glasses. 

Bread should be broken. To butter a large 
piece of bread and then bite it, as children do, is 
something the knowing never do. 

In eating game or poultry do not touch the 
bones with your fingers. To take a bone in the 
ringers for the purpose of picking it is looked upon 
as being a very inelegant proceeding. 

Never gesticulate with your knife or fork in your 
hand, nor hold them pointing upward when you 
are not using them ; keep them down on your 
plate. 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE. 



49 



Never load up your fork with food until you are 
ready to convey it to your mouth, unless you are 
famishing and you think your life depends on your 
not losing a second. 

Never put your own knife into the butter or the 
salt if there is a butter-knife and a salt-spoon. If 
you are compelled to use your own knife, first wipe 
it as clean as possible on your bread. 

Never use your own knife or fork to help an- 
other. Use rather the knife or fork of the person 
you help. 

Never send your knife and fork, or either of 
them, on your plate when you send for a second 
supply. There are several good reasons for not 
doing so, and not one good reason for doing so. 
Never hold your knife and fork meanwhile in your 
hand, either, but lay them down, and that, too, 
with something under them — a piece of bread, for 
example — to protect the table-cloth. Never carry 
your food to your mouth with any curves or flour- 
ishes, unless you want to look as though you were 
airing your company manners. Better a pound of 
awkwardness at any time than an ounce of self- 
consciousness. 



50 



THE MENTOR, 



Never use a steel knife to cut fruit if there is a 
silver one. 

Never stick vour elbows out when you use your 
knife and fork. Keep them close to your sides. 

Having finished using your knife and fork, lay 
them on your plate, side by side, with the handles 
pointing a little to your right. This will be taken 
by an experienced waiter as an intimation that 
you are ready to have your plate removed. 

Whenever you use the fingers to convey anything 
to the mouth or to remove anything from the 
mouth, let it be the fingers of the left hand. 

When you eat a fruit that has a pit or a skin that 
is not swallowed, the pit or skin must be removed 
from the mouth with the fingers of the left hand, 
or with a spoon or fork in the right. Any other 
mode is most offensive. 

Tea, coffee, chocolate and the like are drunk 
from the cup and never from the saucer. Put your 
spoon in the saucer should you send your cup to 
be refilled ; otherwise, it may be left in the cup. 
Never blow your tea or coffee ; if it is too hot to 
be drunk, wait till it cools. 

In handling glasses, keep your fingers a goodly 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE. 51 



distance from the top, but do not go to the other 
extreme ; and if you handle a goblet or a wine- 
glass, take hold of the stem only. Take hold of 
the bowl just above the stem. 

In helping yourself to butter, take at once as 
much as you think you shall require, and try to 
leave the roll in as good shape as you find it. In 
returning the knife, do not stick it into the roll, 
but lay it on the side of the plate. 

In masticating your food, keep your mouth shut ; 
otherwise you will make a noise that will be very 
offensive to those around you. 

Don't eat in a mincing, dainty manner, as though 
you had no appetite, nor devour your food as 
though you were famishing. Eat as though you 
relished your food, but not as though you were 
afraid you would not get enough. 

Don't attempt to talk with a full mouth. One 
thing at a time is as much as any man can do 
well. 

Few men talk well when they do nothing else, 
and few men chew their food well when they have 
nothing else to do. 

Partake sparingly of delicacies, which are gen- 



52 



THE MENTOR. 



erally served in small quantities, and decline them 
if offered a second time. 

Should you find a worm or an insect in your 
salad or in a plate of fruit, hand your plate to a 
waiter, without comment, and he will bring you 
another. 

See that the lady that you escorted to the table is 
well helped. Anticipate her wants, if possible. 

Never tip your chair, nor lounge back in it, nor 
put your thumbs in the arm-holes of your waist- 
coat. 

Never hitch up your sleeves, as some men have 
the habit of doing, as though you were going to 
make mud pies. 

If the conversation tends to be general — and it 
should tend to be general at a small dinner-party — > 
take good heed that you, at least, listen, which is 
the only sure way I know of for every man to ap- 
pear to advantage. 

Never, under any circumstances, no matter where 
you are, cry out "'Waiter!" No man of any 
breeding ever does it. Wait till you can catch the 
attendant's eye, and by a nod bring him to you. 

Unless you are asked to do so, never select any 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE. 



53 



particular part of a dish ; but if you are asked 
choose promptly, though you may have no prefer- 
ence. 

If a dish is distasteful to you decline it, and with- 
out comment. 

Never put bones or the pits of fruit on the table- 
cloth. Put them on the side of your plate. 

Always wipe your mouth before drinking, in order 
that you may not grease the brim of your glass with 
your lips. 

Taking wine with people and the drinking of 
toasts at private dinners are no longer the fashion. 
Every one drinks much or little or none at all as 
he chooses, without attracting attention. 

If, however, you should find yourself at a table 
where the old custom is observed, you will not in- 
vite your host to take wine with you ; it is his priv- 
ilege to invite you. 

If you are invited to drink with an acquaintance, 
and you do not drink wine, bow, raise your glass 
of water, and drink with him. If you do drink 
wine, take the same sort as that selected by the per- 
son you drink with. 

It is considered ill bred to empty your glass on 



54 



THE MENTOR. 



these occasions or to drink a full glass of wine at a 
draught on any occasion. 

While on the subject of wine-drinking, it may not 
be amiss to observe that in England it is consid- 
ered inelegant to say " port wine" or " sherry 
wine." In England they always say " port''' or 
" sherry." On the other hand, no well-bred 
Frenchman ever speaks of wines in any other way 
than as " Vin de Champagne, 99 6 ' Vin de Bordeaux, ' ' 
and so on. Thus we see that what is the wrong 
thing to do in one country is the right thing to do 
in another. 

Do not offer a lady wine till she has finished her 
soup. 

Do not hesitate to take the last piece on a dish or 
the last glass of wine in a decanter simply because 
it is the last. To do so is to indirectly express the 
fear that you would exhaust the supply. 

Avoid picking your teeth at the table if possible ; 
but if pick them you must, do it, if you can, 
when you are not observed. " There is one con- 
tinental custom," says the London Queen, " which 
the true-born Briton holds in holy horror — that is, 
the use of those convenient little lengths of wood 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE. 55 



which to every foreigner are as necessary to his 
comfort as a napkin for his mouth or water for his 
fingers. We English regard the use of the tooth- 
pick as a barbarism, a horror, an indecency, and 
would not take one of those clean wooden spills 
between our lips for all the world. Nevertheless, a 
great many of us who would shudder at the in- 
iquity of a toothpick, thrust our fingers into our 
mouths and free our back teeth with these natural 
' cure-dents/ which gives a singularly wolfish and 
awful appearance to the operator, and makes the 
onlooker regret the insular prejudice which will not 
rather use the universal continental toothpick, 
wherein, at least, if properly and delicately done, is 
no kind of indecency or disgust. 

The procedure with finger-bowls and doilies 
differs somewhat on different occasions, the differ- 
ence depending upon the time the bowl is brought, 
and whether a little white napkin comes with it. 
If the bowl, with a doily only, comes on your des- 
sert-plate, you will remove it to your left, placing 
the doily under it. When you come to use the 
bowl, you will wet your fingers in the perfumed 
water it contains, and then dry them on your nap- 



56 



THE MENTOR. 



kin. But if a little white napkin is brought with 
the bowl and doily, you will use that to wipe your 
fingers on. It is entirely permissible to wet the 
corner of your table-napkin, or of the little white 
napkin that comes with the bowl, and pass it over 
your lips. Of course, you would do this before 
putting your fingers in the water. If there are any 
fruit-stains on your fingers, you will use the bit of 
lemon that comes in the water to remove them. 

If an accident of any kind soever should occur 
during dinner, the cause being who or what it may, 
you should not seem to note it. 

Should you be so unfortunate as to overturn or 
to break anything, you would make no apology. 
You might let your regret appear in your face, but 
it would not be proper to put it in words. 

Never fold your napkin where you are invited for 
one meal only, nor at a hotel or restaurant, but lay 
it loosely on the table. By folding it you would 
intimate that you thought some one else might use 
it before it had been sent to the laundry. But if you 
are at a friend's house for a day or two or longer, then 
you will do with your napkin as you see the mem- 
bers of the family do with theirs. At the last meal, 



AT THE DINNER-TABLE. 57 



however, you should lay your napkin on the table 
unfolded. 

If the ladies withdraw after dinner, leaving the 
gentlemen, rise when they leave the table and re- 
main standing until they have left the room. 

The gentleman that is seated nearest the door or 
that is quickest of movement should open the 
door for the ladies to pass out and close it after 
them. 

It is no longer the custom for the gentlemen to 
remain at the table for more than fifteen or twenty 
minutes, instead of from three quarters of an hour 
to an hour, as formerly. Indeed, there are those 
that look upon the custom of remaining at all as a 
relic of barbarism. 

One should remain in the drawing-room from 
half an hour to an hour after dinner. To leave 
sooner would betray a lack of good breeding. 

If you would be what you would like to be — ■ 
abroad, take care that you are what you would like 
to be — at home. 



IN PUBLIC. 



Politeness is as natural to delicate natures as per- 
fume is to flowers. — De Finod. 

Politeness is a curb that holds our worser selves in 
check. — Mme. de Bassanville. 

The surest way to please is to forget one's self, and 
to think only of others. — Moncrief. 

To be polite, it is sufficient to consider the comfort, the 
feelings, and the rights of others.— Anonymous. 

What if the manners imitated are frippery ; better 
frippery, than brutality ; and, after all, there is little 
danger that the intrinsic value of the sturdiest iron will 
be impaired by a coating of even the most diaphanous 
gilt. — Edgar Allan Poe. 

We all judge one another, and very properly, too, 
by externals. Most men appear like what they are, 
and there are those that are so experienced in judg- 
ing their fellows by their appearance and bearing, 



IN PUBLIC. 



59 



that they rarely err. It is quite as true that the 
surest way to appear like a gentleman is to be one, 
as it is that the surest way to appear like an honest 
man is to be one. Life is made up of little things, 
and attention to them is evidence of a great rather 
than of a little mind. To a large understanding 
everything is important, and he that most readily 
descends to little things is also the most competent 
to compass great ones. In another chapter the 
subject of appearance is treated of ; in this I pur- 
pose to treat more especially of bearing. 

If a man would appear like a gentleman, he 
must walk, stand, and sit like one. In walking he 
should, above all, avoid everything that is un- 
natural or that smacks of self-consciousness. How 
often do we see men in the street whose every 
movement tells us their minds are chiefly on them- 
selves ! One throws his chest out a la dindon, 
while another walks with an abnormal stoop ; but 
both delight in a kind of rolling, swaggering gait 
and an unnatural swing of the arms. We all 
know, when we see such a man, no matter what 
his appearance in other respects may be, that he is 
a person of low breeding. Not only is a man's 



60 



THE MENTOR. 



walk an index of his character and of the grade 
of his culture, but it is also an index of the frame 
of mind he is in. There is the thoughtful walk 
and the thoughtless walk, the responsible walk and 
the careless walk, the worker's walk and. the idler's 
walk, the ingenuous walk and the insidious walk, 
and so on. In a word, what there is in us we all 
carry in essentially the same way ; hence the surest 
way to have the carriage of gentility is to have 
gentility to carry. 

It is also necessary that a man should pay atten- 
tion to the manner in which he stands, when he is 
in the presence of others, and especially when he is 
in conversation with any one toward whom he 
would be at all respectful. Dropping in the hip, 
spreading the feet wide apart, putting the hands 
behind the back, putting the thumbs into the arm- 
holes of the vest — in short, standing in a noncha- 
lant, take-it- easy manner is not permissible. One 
should stand still and erect — somewhat a la mili- 
taire — and the best place for the hands is where 
the attraction of gravitation takes them, when the 
muscles of the arms are relaxed. This position, 
to the tyro, seems unnatural, stiff, and ungraceful, 



IN PUBLIC. 



61 



while, in fact, it is natural, graceful, and respectful. 
This is one of the first things a dancing master 
should teach his pupils, and it always is one of the 
first things taught the learner for the stage. 

Nor is the manner in which a man sits of less 
importance than the manner in which he walks or 
stands. The well-bred man does not loll and 
lounge in his chair, unless he is in the society 
of familiars, where one's society strait- jacket 
may, according to circumstances, be more or less 
loosened. In short, that kind of comfort that is 
found in lolling and lounging and rocking and tip- 
ping back one's chair is incompatible with a re- 
spectful bearing. Among thoroughly well-bred 
people the world over, usage herein is very ex- 
acting. 

In public, the bow is the proper mode of saluta- 
tion, also under certain circumstances in private ; 
and, according to circumstances, it should be 
familiar, cordial, respectful, or formal. An incli- 
nation of the head or a gesture with the hand or 
cane suffices between men, except when one would 
be specially deferential to age or position ; but in 
saluting a lady, the hat should be removed. A 



62 



THE MENTOR. 



very common mode of doing this in New York, at 
present, particularly by the younger men, is to jerk 
the hat off and sling it on as hastily as possible. 
As haste is incompatible with grace, and as there is 
an old pantomimic law that " every picture must 
be held ' ' for a longer or shorter time, the jerk-and- 
sling manner of removing the hat, in salutation, is 
not to be commended. The empressement a man 
puts into his salutations is graduated by circum- 
stances, the most deferential manner being to carry 
the hat down the full length of the arm, keeping it 
there until the person saluted has passed. If a man 
stops to speak to a lady in the street he should re- 
main uncovered, unless the conversation should be 
protracted, which it is sure not to be, if either of the 
parties knows and cares to observe the proprieties. 

A well-bred man, meeting a lady in a public 
place, though she is a near relative — wife, mother, 
or sister — and though he may have parted from 
her but half an hour before, will salute her as 
deferentially as he would salute a mere acquaint- 
ance. The passers-by are ignorant of the relation- 
ship, and to them his deferential manner says : 
" She is a lady." 



IN PUBLIC. 



63 



Well-bred men often remove their hats when ill- 
bred men keep them on ; for example, in second- 
class restaurants and especially in oyster saloons. 
Again, the ill-bred man, though he may perhaps 
remove his hat in such places, will wear it the 
entire length of the room on entering and leaving, 
whereas the well-bred man carries his hat as he 
passes the other guests. So, too, the ill-bred man 
often wears his hat until he reaches his seat at a 
place of amusement, though his seat is one of those 
that are farthest from the entrance. 

The well-bred man raises his hat if he passes a 
lady, though a stranger, in the hall of a hotel, on 
the stairs, if he does her any little service, as the 
restoring of her fan, her glove, or anything, or if she 
makes an inquiry of him or he of her. He will 
not, however, as some would have us do, raise his 
hat if he passes a lady's fare in a street car or an 
omnibus. A lady's fare sometimes passes through 
the hands of several men before it reaches the cash- 
box. Should they all raise their hats, or only the 
first one, or only the last one, or should no one ? 

The following defence of my lovely country- 
women will not be wholly out of place here. It is 
5 



64 



THE MENTOR. 



from " Social Etiquette," and I fully agree with 
the writer — cash-box excepted. She says: "A 
gentleman lifts his hat when offering a service to a 
strange lady. It may be the restoration of her 
kerchief or fan, the receiving of her change to pass 
it to the cash-box of a stage, the opening of her 
umbrella as she descends from a carriage — all the 
same ; he lifts it before he offers his service, or 
during the courtesy, if possible. She bows, and, 
if she choose, she also smiles her acknowledgment ; 
but she does the latter faintly, and she does not 
speak. To say 4 Thank you 1 ' is not an excess of 
acknowledgment, but it has ceased to be etiquette. 
A bow may convey more gratitude than speech." 

4 'This last information is more especially fur- 
nished to foreigners, who consider our ladies un- 
gracious in some of these customs, and indelicately 
forward in others. In the matter of thanks to 
strangers for any little attentions they bestow upon 
ladies, we beg leave to establish our own methods, 
and no one finds it necessary to imitate the Ger- 
man, the French, the English, or the Spanish in 
these delicate matters." 

The best usage demands that the hat be removed 



IN PUBLIC. 



65 



in entering offices where the occupants are found 
uncovered. 

It is the custom to remove the hats in hotel 
elevators, when there are ladies in them ; but it is 
so inconvenient to do so when the elevator is full, 
that it would be well if the custom were aban- 
doned. It is a surplusage de politesse, at the best. 

Good usage does not demand that a man shall 
remove his hat when he has both hands occupied. 
It is better, however, for a man to remove his hat, 
when the occasion demands it, if he can do so at 
all easily, as the lady that he salutes may not be 
aware that, having both hands occupied, he should 
not be expected to do so. If a man is driving, he 
salutes with a flourish of the whip, if he is carrying 
it ; if not, the right hand being free, he removes his 
hat. 

A gentleman walking with an acquaintance, lady 
or gentleman, raises his hat to those persons that 
his acquaintance salutes ; he does not, however, 
do more than simply raise it. 

" There may be circumstances/' says the author 
of " Social Etiquette/' " when a gentleman may 
lift his hat to a passing lady, even though he can- 



66 



THE MENTOR. 



not bow to her. She may be offended with him, 
and yet he may respect and feel kindly toward her. 
He may deserve her disregard, and it is permitted 
him to express his continued reverence by uncover- 
ing his head in her presence ; but he has no right 
to look at her as she passes him. He must drop 
his eyes." 

If a man meets a lady with whom he is but 
slightly acquainted, he should wait for a look of 
recognition from her before he salutes her. 

" A great deal of nonsense, " says Louise 
Chandler Moulton, " has been talked about the 
question of whose place it is to bow first when a 
lady and gentleman meet in the street or in any 
public assembly. It is very absurd to say that a 
man should always wait until a lady has recognized 
him. In this, as in most other matters, common- 
sense and mutual convenience are the only guides. 
Many ladies are near-sighted, many others find 
great difficulty in remembering faces. Are they, 
because of these drawbacks, to be always debarred 
of the pleasure of a chance meeting with some 
agreeable man ? The important thing of course 
is that a man should not presume. " 



IN PUBLIC. 



67 



" When two people meet who are really ac- 
quainted, it is not the man who should necessarily 
bow first, or the lady — it is simply whichever of 
them is the first to perceive and recognize the 
other. If a lady is walking and meets a man 
whom she knows well, and who desires to speak 
with her, he will of course not commit the awk- 
wardness of keeping her standing in the street, but 
if he has time will beg permission to join her for a 
few moments, and walk beside her long enough for 
a brief chat." 

In our wide streets, the custom of giving the 
lady the wall-side of the pavement is not rigidly 
observed, but it should be in the narrow ones, un- 
less the street is one very much frequented, like 
some of our down-town streets, when it is better 
for the lady to be always on the gentleman' s right, 
where she will be less jostled by the passers-by. 
When two men walk together, it is usual for the 
shorter one to take the upper side of the pavement, 
which renders the difference in height less observ- 
able. 

In public conveyances the well-bred, considerate 
man offers his seat to any one that seems to need it 



68 



THE M EX TOR. 



more than he does — to the aged and infirm, for 
example, no matter what social stratum they may 
appear to belong to, to women with bundles or 
babies in their arms. Such as these should always 
take precedence over youth, beauty, or social posi- 
tion. 

In a carriage a gentleman always gives the back 
seat to ladies accompanying him. If a gentleman 
drives out with one lady, he always places her on 
his right, which is the seat of honor ; unless, of 
course, it is a one-seated vehicle, when he drives. 

Neither in a carriage nor anywhere else should 
a man put his arm over the back of the lady's seat. 
If a man were to do so, many ladies would request 
him to withdraw it. 

If men stop in the street to converse, they should 
be careful not to stop where they will be in the way 
of the passers-by. We often see the thoughtless 
and inconsiderate stop directly opposite a crossing. 

In carrying an umbrella or a cane under your 
arm, do not publish your awkwardness by carrying 
it in such a way as to make a cross of yourself, with 
the lance end sticking out behind you, endangering 
the eyes of others. Place the handle end under 



IN PUBLIC. 



69 



your arm, and let the lance end point forward and 
downward. 

Unless you have something of importance to 
communicate, do not stop an acquaintance in the 
street during business hours, or, perhaps, it would 
be better to say at any time. 

If an acquaintance should stop you in the street 
when your time is limited, you may with perfect 
propriety courteously excuse yourself and hasten 
forward. 

When walking with an acquaintance, do not 
leave him to speak to another acquaintance with- 
out a word of apology. Should you be walking 
with a lady, do not leave her alone if you can well 
avoid it. 

If you see an acquaintance to whom you have 
something to say in conversation with some one 
else, do not go up and take possession of him after 
the fashion of the unbred. Let him know that 
you would speak with him and wait his leisure. 
If he is a man of any breeding, he will not keep 
you waiting long. 

One salutation to a person passing on a prom- 
enade or drive is all that usage requires. 



70 



THE MENTOR. 



Good usage does not allow a man to smoke 
when driving or walking with ladies. 

As a rule, a man should not offer to shake hands 
with a lady when they meet on neutral ground. 
In his own house, yes ; in hers, certainly not. 
' ' There is a right and a wrong way to shake 
hands," says an English writer. 4 4 It is horrible 
when your unoffending digits are seized in the 
sharp compass of a kind of vise, and wrung and 
squeezed until you feel as if they were reduced to a 
jelly. It is not less horrible when you find them 
lying in a limp, nerveless clasp that makes no re- 
sponse to your hearty greeting, but chills you like 
a lump of ice. Shake hands as if you meant it — 
swiftly, strenuously, and courteously, neither using 
an undue pressure nor falling wholly supine. You 
may judge of the character of a man from the way 
in which he shakes hands. As for the cold-blooded 
creatures who austerely offer you one or two fingers, 
I recommend you to ignore them; look loftily over 
them, as if unconscious of their existence and — their 
fingers. But if a lady does you the honor to offer 
you her hand, take it with an air of grateful defer- 
ence that will show how you appreciate the honor ; 



IN PUBLIC. 



71 



do not drop it instantly as if the touch scared you, 
nor hold it so long as to cause her a feeling of un- 
easiness." 

Tight-fitting gloves — kid and dogskin, for ex- 
ample — should never be removed to shake hands 
with any one, nor should a man ever say, M Ex- 
cuse my glove." There is less handshaking done 
now than formerly. 

If you meet an acquaintance in the street when 
you are walking with a friend, do not introduce 
them ; nor should you ever introduce people in 
public places, unless you have good reason to be- 
lieve that the introduction will be agreeable — nay 
more, is desired by both parties. The universal 
introducer is a very unpleasant person to associate 
with. In introducing persons, it is the lower that 
is introduced to the higher, and, as a rule, the 
younger to the older, the gentleman to the lady. 
No one would think of introducing an octogena- 
rian to a girl of sixteen. 

" The introduction that entitles to recognition 
having been once made/' says Mrs. Ward, " it is 
the duty of the younger person to recall himself or 
herself to the recollection of the older person, if 



72 



THE MENTOR. 



there is much difference in age, by bowing each 
time of meeting, until the recognition becomes 
mutual. As persons advance in life they look for 
these attentions on the part of the young, and it 
may be, in some instances, that it is the only way 
the young have of showing their appreciation of 
courtesies extended to them by the old or middle- 
aged." 

The author of " Social Etiquette" says : " La- 
dies who entertain hospitably and possess hosts 
of friends are likely to invite many young gentle- 
men with whose families they are familiar ; but as 
they seldom have an opportunity of seeing their 
young friends except for a moment or two during 
an evening party, it would be strange if sometimes 
these ladies should not fail to recognize a recent 
guest when they meet on the promenade. Young 
gentlemen are over-sensitive about these matters, 
and imagine that there must be a reason for the ap- 
parent indifference. That the lady invites him to 
her house is an evidence of her regard, but she can- 
not charge her memory with the features of her 
multitude of young acquaintances, much as she 
would like to show this couitesy to them all." 



IN PUBLIC. 



' * Should any one," says an authority in such 
matters, " wish to avoid a bowing acquaintance 
with a person who has once been properly intro- 
duced, he may do so by looking aside, or drop- 
ping the eyes as the person approaches ; for if the 
eyes meet there is no alternative, bow he must." 

If a gentleman meets a lady acquaintance in the 
street, it is optional with her whether she will stop 
or not. If the gentleman has anything to say to 
her, he should turn and walk with her until he has 
said what he has to say. When he takes leave of 
her he will bow and raise his hat. 

There is no one thing, perhaps, in which the 
difference between the well-bred man and the ill-bred 
man more appears than in the manner in which, 
the place where, and the time when they smoke. 
The well-bred man does not smoke, nor does he 
seem to smoke, to show off, whereas the ill-bred 
man very often smokes in a self-conscious manner 
that seems to say : " Look at me ! see how skil- 
fully my lips hold this cigar ; how I can shift it from 
one side of my mouth to the other without touch- 
ing it with my fingers, and how well I can articu- 
late with it in my mouth ; in short, look you what 



74 



THE MENTOR. 



perfect control I have over my labial muscles, and, 
having seen, admire !" In short, there are many 
low-bred young men — very many — that appear to 
smoke only to display their — imagined — grace and 
skill, when, in fact, in smoking as they do, where 
they do, and when they do, they but publish their 
vulgarity. Such men are certainly not of the sort 
that Shakespeare accuses of having a " vaulting 
ambition." As they smoke chiefly for show, a 
poor cigar answers their purpose as well as a good 
one ; consequently, they usually buy of the kind 
that are sold at the rate of two for a cent. 

The well-bred man, on the contrary, the gentle- 
man, the man that smokes only for the love of it, 
puts but as much of his cigar in his mouth as is 
necessary in order to draw it, keeps it in his mouth 
no longer than is necessary, and never fails to re- 
move it when he talks, or passes any one toward 
whom he would be respectful, especially a lady. 
Further, our best-bred men never smoke in any 
street at an hour when it is much frequented, nor 
in any public place where smoking is likely to be 
offensive to others. 

Fortunately, neither "young America" nor 



IN PUBLIC. 



75 



" old " is much given to smoking a pipe outside 
of his own domicile. When we see a pipe in our 
streets or in public places it is generally in the 
mouth of either an Englishman, a Canadian, or an 
Irish hodcarrier. 

" Give up to ' cads ' and ' snobs ' the practice 
of smoking in the streets or in a theatre," says the 
author of " The Glass of Fashion. " 

" Gentlemen never smoke in the streets, except at 
night/' says another. 

" A well-bred man will never pass a lady with a 
cigar in his mouth, whether he knows her or not, 
not even in a desert/' says yet another. 

From another writer we have : il In the eyes of 
persons of the best culture, a cigar or a cigarette in 
a man's mouth, in public places, vulgarizes his ap- 
pearance ; hence men of the best fashion never 
smoke in the street, except at night." 

" In England," says Mrs. Duffey, " a well-bred 
man never smokes in the street. Are we obliged 
to say that this rule does not hold in this country, 
or shall we repeat it with an emphasis on the well 
bred? At all events, no gentleman will ever insult 
a lady by smoking in the streets in her company ; 



76 



THE MENTOR. 



and in meeting and saluting a lady he will always 
remove his cigar from his mouth." 

Spitting is one of those things that no man 
should do, if he can avoid it. If in the street, 
common decency, it would seem, should prompt a 
man to go to the gutter if he finds it necessary to 
spit ; and if anywhere else, it should prompt him 
not to spit on the floor, be the floor carpeted or 
not. We often see men spit on a carpet, espe- 
cially in our theatres, but we never see any man spit 
on a carpet of his own. 

Another disagreeable habit is that of going about 
singing, humming, or whistling. The man that 
habitually does any one of these things, either in 
the street — no matter what the hour — in the halls 
of hotels, as he goes up and down stairs, or in his 
own apartments, when there is any one within 
hearing, has the manners of a boor, and deserves 
the calaboose for disorderly conduct. 

Pointing, too, as a habit should be avoided, 
especially pointing with the thumb over the 
shoulder, which is a very inelegant action. 

Another vulgar habit to be avoided is that of 
going about with a toothpick in the mouth. 



IN PUBLIC. 



77 



" The ball is the paradise of love," says an Eng- 
lish writer. " In the happy spring-time of life, 
when the brain is fertile in pleasant fancies, and 
the heart throbs with unexpressed hopes — when 
every day brings with it a new pleasure, and every 
night a new reason for looking forward with joyous 
anticipation to the morrow — when our energies are 
as exhaustless as our spirits, and no sense of fatigue 
or weariness can oppress us, the ball-room becomes 
an enchanted world of light' and music and per- 
fume, into which that ubiquitous ' black care ' of 
the Roman poet durst not intrude, where sorrow is 
never seen, and past and future are forgotten in the 
innocent intoxications of the present. 

" To the young ear, what so delightful as merry 
music ? To the youthful eye, what so attractive as 
the spectacle of fair forms gracefully revolving in 
the soft, sweet mazes of the mystic dance ? And if 
we know that ' at the ball ' we shall meet that 
' other half ' of one's self — Romeo or Juliet, as the 
case may be, but Romeo without his melancholy, 
and Juliet without her tragedy — can it be wondered 
at that it draws us thither with an irresistible attrac- 
tion ? : 



78 



THE M EX TOR. 



" Ah, when the noontide comes, and already 
the shadows of evening gather over our downward 
path, how will remembrance bring back to us the 
days when it was bliss to touch one beloved hand, 
to take one trusting form in our reverent embrace 
■ — when it was joy untold for Romeo and Juliet to 
tread the painted floor together, and, side by side, 
to circle round and round to the strains of Strauss 
or Gung'l ! And then, in the pauses of the dance, 
the brief whisper on the cool balcony or beneath 
the broad palms of the conservatory ! And last 
of all, the privilege of draping those graceful shoul- 
ders with the protecting shawl, and the last sweet 
pressure of clinging fingers as Juliet passed into 
the carriage that was to bear her from our wistful 
gaze !" 

If a young man would go into society — and every 
young man should go into society — and if he learn 
to dance, as most young men do, he should learn 
to dance properly. To compass this end, it is of 
the first importance that he select a good teacher. 
There are not a few of the dancing-masters nowa- 
days — some of the more fashionable ones, too — that 
are quite ignorant of the art they pretend to teach. As 



IN PUBLIC. 



79 



a natural consequence, their pupils dance badly, if 
they can be really said to dance at all. They are 
ungraceful, and do not mark the time, nor make 
any perceptible distinction between the different 
round dances, whereas each round dance properly 
has a distinctive step and movement. In dancing 
the round dances, in order to dance gracefully, 
never bend forward, but carry yourself erect, and do 
not bend in the knees ; never put your arm around 
jour partner's waist farther than is necessary to 
hold her securely ; never extend your left arm a la 
pump-handle, but keep your left hand, firmly hold- 
ing the lady's right, opposite and a little below 
your left shoulder, and put it nowhere else j never 
pass around the hall more rapidly than the measure 
compels you to pass — rapidity is incompatible with 
grace — and always point with the toe to the floor 
when the foot is raised. Take short steps, and take 
them with as little evident muscular exertion as 
possible. Grace and ease, or seeming ease, are in- 
separable. 

The most popular of the round dances nowadays 

is a dance that is called a waltz, though it is no 

more like what we called a waltz twenty-five years 
6 



80 THE MENTOR. 

ago, nor any more like the only dance the Euro- 
peans call a waltz now, than a minuet is like a 
country break-down. Its popularity is largely, if 
not wholly, due to the comparative ease with which 
it is learned. The dancing-masters say that the 
" old-fashioned " waltz, as it is now called, is too 
hard to learn ; that there are few that can learn to 
dance it well ; that the dancers nowadays care little 
for grace of movement ; that if they are amused 
they are content, and so on. If the waltz — the 
genuine waltz — is the most difficult of all the round 
dances to learn, it is also the most fascinating of 
them all for the accomplished dancer, and the most 
pleasing to the looker-on, because of all the round 
dances its movements are made with the most 
grace, dignity, precision, and bienseance. 

If for no other reason, the waltz — so called — of 
to-day cannot be danced gracefully on account of 
the backward movement it demands. He that has 
never had any aesthetic training in the movements 
of the body, and especially he that has no innate 
sense of the graceful may think differently, but this 
is true nevertheless. Another reason, and a very 
important one too, that the movements of this 



IN PUBLIC. 



81 



dance cannot be made gracefully is because they 
compel the dancer to carry himself with his 
shoulders thrown somewhat forward and with the 
knees a good deal bent — two things that are incom- 
patible with graceful physical action. But perhaps 
the most serious objection to the waltz of nowadays 
is the habit of " reversing" that is indulged in by 
those that dance it. Reversing is simply a barbar- 
ism, as those that indulge in it do not and cannot 
avoid bumping against the other dancers. A man 
that dances the round dances well, and does not 
reverse, never runs against anybody ; he goes just 
where he wants to go, and goes nowhere else, and 
he always wants to go straight around the sides of 
the hall. The plea of the reverser is that if he turns 
one way all the time, he gets dizzy. Nonsense ! 
In the days when there was no reversing done, no- 
body complained of dizziness. If, at first, there is 
a tendency that way, it soon wears off. There is 
surely no pleasure in dancing, if one is continually 
jostled, and as long as reversing is practised, 
dancers will continue to jostle one another. 

No man, of course, can dance the round dances 
well and gracefully, unless he has a good partner. 



82 



THE MENTOR. 



If he makes the attempt with a lady that does not 
know the steps, or that seems desirous to rest her 
head on his shoulder, he will be quite certain not 
to succeed. Dancers of the round dances should al- 
ways keep as far apart as the length of the gentle??iari s 
arm will permit, and both should stand erect, with the 
shoulders well back. To dance otherwise is vulgar 
in the extreme. 

In the round dances, good usage demands that 
you make frequent pauses, and that you do not 
race round and round until the music ceases. If 
you would exhibit your powers of endurance, enter 
the field as a champion runner. 

" I could rave/' says a high English authority, 
" through three pages about the innocent enjoy- 
ment of a good waltz, its grace and beauty, but I 
will be practical instead, and give you a few hints 
on the subject. 

" The position is the most important point. 
The lady and gentleman before starting should 
stand exactly opposite each other, quite upright, 
and not, as is so common in England, painfully 
close to each other. If the man's hand be placed 
where it should be, at the centre of the lady's waist, 



IN PUBLIC. 



83 



and not all round it, he will have as firm a hold and 
not be obliged to stoop, or bend to his right. The 
lady's head should then be turned a little toward 
her left shoulder, and her partner's somewhat less 
toward his left, in order to preserve the balance. 
Nothing can be more atrocious than to see a lady 
lay her head on her partner's shoulder : she should 
throw her head and shoulders a little back. 

" Russian men undertake to perform in waltzing 
the same feat as the Austrians in riding, and will 
dance round the room with a glass of wine in the 
left hand without spilling a drop. This evenness in 
waltzing is certainly very graceful, but it can only 
be obtained by a sliding step that is little practised 
in England. The pace, again, should not be so 
rapid as to endanger other couples. The knees 
should be very little bent in dancing, and the body 
still less so. I do not know whether it is worse to 
see a man ' sit down ' in a waltz, or to find him 
with his head poked forward over your young wife's 
shoulder, hot, red, wild, and in far too close prox- 
imity to the partner of your bosom, whom he makes 
literally the partner of his own. 

" The remarks as to the position in waltzing 



84 



THE MENTOR. 



apply to all round dances. The calm ease that 
marks the man of good taste makes even the 
swiftest dances graceful and agreeable. Vehemence 
may be excused at an election but not in a ball- 
room. 

" Dancing, if it is a mere trifle, is one to which 
great minds have not been ashamed to stoop. 
Locke, for instance, speaks of it as manly, Plato 
recommended it, and Socrates learned the Athenian 
polka of the day, when he was quite an old man, 
and liked it very much. Some one has even gone 
so far as to call it ' the logic of the body ; ' and 
Addison defends himself for making it the subject 
of a disquisition." 

"Nothing," says Mr. Cecil B. Hartley, "will 
give ease of manner and a graceful carriage to a 
man more surely than the knowledge of dancing. 
He will, in its practice, acquire easy motion, a 
light step, and learn to use both hands and feet 
well. Some people being bashful and afraid of 
attracting attention in a ball-room or evening party, 
do not take lessons in dancing, overlooking the 
fact that it is those who do not take part in the 
amusement on such occasions, not those who do, 



IN PUBLIC. 



85 



that attract attention. To all such men I would 
say, Learn to dance ! You will find dancing one 
of the very best means for correcting bashfulness. " 

This is all very well and very sensible, but the most 
weighty reason why a man should learn to dance 
lies in the fact that every man that goes into society 
should be qualified to take part in society amuse- 
ments — in short, to do what others do, and to do 
it well. 

Here are some, injunctions I find in " The Glass 
of Fashion 

" Bear yourself with moderation in the liveliest 
measure. Some couples go through a waltz as if 
they were dancing dervishes, and indulge in an 
abandon that, to say the least, is indecorous. 

" Lead your partner through a quadrille ; do not 
haul her. A lady's waist should be sacred, and 
there can be no excuse for clasping it as if you 
wanted to steady yourself by it. 

" Dance quietly. Do not go through your steps 
as if you were a dancing-master ; nor move your 
limbs wildly, as if you were executing an Indian 
war-dance. 

"Iam not sure that a man in a dress-coat and 



86 



THE MENTOR. 



black trousers, going through a quadrille or 
cotillon, can be considered either a noble or a 
beautiful sight ; but I am sure that it is better he 
should dance as if he knew something about it, 
than like a country clown who mistakes muscular 
activity for grace. 

\\ Above all, do not be prone to quarrel in a ball- 
room ; it disturbs the harmony of the company, 
and should be avoided, if possible. Recollect that 
a thousand little derelictions from strict propriety 
may occur through the ignorance or stupidity of 
the aggressor, and not from any intention to annoy ; 
remember, also, that really well-bred women will 
not thank you for making them conspicuous by 
over- officiousn ess in their defence, unless, indeed, 
there is a serious violation of decorum. In small 
matters, ladies are both able and willing to take 
care of themselves, and would prefer being allowed 
to overwhelm the unlucky offender in their own 
way. 

" You go to a ball to dance, and not to stand 
against the wall, or by the door, with the smirk of 
priggishness on your foolish face, as if the whole 
thing were a baiv, and everybody in the room un- 



IN PUBLIC. 



87 



worthy of your august notice. If Heaven only 
* gave you to see yourself as others see you, ' rest 
assured you would adopt no such idiotic conduct. " 

" A man who can dance, and will not dance, " 
says Mrs. Ward, " ought to stay away from a ball. 
Who has not encountered that especial type of ill- 
bred man who lounges around doorways or strolls 
through a suite of rooms, looking as if there were 
not a creature present w r orth dancing with !" 

" A gentleman of genuine politeness, " says Mrs. 
Duffey, " will not give all his time and attention 
to the belles of the evening, but will at least de- 
vote a little thought to the wall-flowers who sit for- 
lorn and unattended, and who but for him might 
have no opportunity to dance." The wall-flower 
is a plant found in every ball-room, yet no young 
lady, no matter how plain and uninteresting she 
may be, need ever be one. Let her learn to dance 
well and she will always have partners. 

At balls, the right of introducing rests mainly 
with the ladies and gentlemen of the house, but a 
chaperone may introduce a gentleman to her charge, 
and if a man is intimate with a young lady he may 
ask her permission- to introduce a friend. 



83 



THE MENTOR. 



An invitation to a private ball, like other invita- 
tions, should be answered immediately. 

The ball demands the fullest of toilets : dress 
suit, white necktie, stand-up collar, and straw- 
colored gloves, which look white at night. The 
gloves should be worn the whole evening, except at 
supper, after which men that can afford it often put 
on a fresh pair. 

If alone, go from the dressing-room to the ball- 
room and pay your respects to the host and hostess. 
If there are young ladies in the family, take the 
earliest opportunity to speak to them and to ask 
one of them to dance the first set with you. If she 
is engaged, you may ask her to dance with you 
later in the evening, and then you are at liberty to 
look for a partner among the guests. 

In asking a lady to dance with you, if you know 
her but slightly, or if you have but just been intro- 
duced to her, it is sufficient to say : " Shall I, or 
may I, have the honor, or the pleasure, of dancing 
the next set with you ?" or " Will you honor me 
with your hand for the next set ?' ' " An applicant 
for this honor is always careful to recognize the 
office and authority of the chaperone when making 



IN PUBLIC. 



89 



his request. This is considered no more respect 
than is due to the lady who has kindly undertaken 
the care of the young lady at a ball. " 

At the end of every dance, says an authority, a 
gentleman should offer his right arm to his partner, 
and at least take her once around the room before 
consigning her to her chaperone. Another authority 
says that a gentleman should return the lady directly 
to her chaperone as soon as the dance is finished. 
He may linger here to converse with her, but not 
elsewhere. 

At a ball a gentleman is introduced to a lady 
only that he may ask her to dance with him — the 
acquaintance, therefore, rarely goes any farther. 
Whether it shall or not is entirely optional with the 
lady. Should they meet afterward, the gentleman 
will wait for a recognition before he speaks. 

Nor should a gentleman that is introduced to a 
young lady at a ball ask her for more than two 
dances the same evening. Indeed, the showing of 
marked preferences in society is always in question- 
able taste. It is certain that it is in the best circles 
that w r e see least of it. 

A gentleman taking a lady in to supper should 



90 



THE MENTOR. 



reconduct her to the ball-room ; the fact of friends 
joining her, in the supper-room, would not relieve 
him of the duty. " While the lady is supping you 
must stand by and talk to her/' says 61 The Man 
in the Club -Window, " " attending to every want, 
and the most you can take yourself is a glass of 
champagne when you help her. You then lead 
her up-stairs again, and if you are not wanted there 
any more, you may steal down and do a little quiet 
refreshment on your own account. As long, how- 
ever, as there are many ladies at the table, you have 
no right to begin. Nothing marks a man here so 
much as gorging at supper. Balls are meant for 
dancing, not for eating. " 

In an English work of high authority, entitled 
" Mixing in Good Society," I find the following 
admonitions : 

" Never enter a ball-room in other than full 
evening dress, and white or light kid gloves. 

" A gentleman cannot be too careful not to injure 
a lady's dress. This he is sure to do if he dances 
a round dance with her without gloves. " 

" The young women of the country/' says Col. 
Donan, " send forth a huge, universal wail of in- 



IN PUBLIC. 



91 



dignant protest against the ungloved men who per- 
sist in leaving their finger-marks on the backs of 
delicately tinted dresses at fashionable germans, hops 
and balls. From Cape Cod to Corpus Christi, no 
dancing party ever takes place that is not followed 
by a day of lamentation and execration on the part 
of the unhappy girls who wake from dreams of waltz 
and galop and quadrille, to find their dainty cos- 
tumes ruined by the bare-paw prints of men for 
whose ruthless crime against decency there is no ex- 
cuse. The fashion of going without gloves origi- 
nated in the vilest foreign flunkeyism. The Prince 
of Wales forgot his gloves one evening when he went 
to the opera, and consequently was compelled to 
appear with his hands uncovered. The next evening 
every asinine toady and swell in the theatre showed 
his hands in native nakedness, and the vulgar apery 
was promptly caught up on this side of the ocean. 
Let gentlemen remember that no ungloved man can 
pretend to be fully dressed. 

" It is an affront to a lady to hold her hand be- 
hind you, or on your hip, when dancing a round 
dance. 

" Never forget a ball-room engagement. It is the 



92 



THE MEX TOR. 



greatest neglect and slight that a gentleman can 
offer a lady. 

" If a lady happens to forget a previous engage- 
ment, and stand up with another partner, the 
gentleman whom she has thus slighted is bound to 
believe that she has acted from inadvertence, and 
should by no means suffer his pride to master his 
good temper. To cause a disagreeable scene in a 
private ball-room is to affront your host and hostess, 
and to make yourself absurd. In a public room it 
is not less reprehensible. 

* ' Always remember that good breeding and good 
temper— or the appearance of good temper — are 
inseparably connected. 

" However much pleasure a man may take in a 
lady's society, he must not ask her to dance too 
frequently. Engaged persons would do well to 
bear this in mind. A ball is too formal a place for 
any one to indulge in personal preferences of any 
kind. 

" Lastly, a gentleman should not go to a ball 
unless he has previously made up his mind to be 
agreeable ; that is, to dance with the plainest as 
well as with the most beautiful ; to take down an 



IN PUBLIC. 



93 



elderly chaperone to supper, instead of her lovely 
charge, with a good grace ; to enter into the spirit 
of the dance, instead of hanging about the door- 
way ; to abstain from immoderate eating, drinking, 
or talking ; to submit to trifling annoyances with 
cheerfulness ; in fact, to forget himself, and con- 
tribute as much as possible to the amusement of 
others. ' ' 

If a gentleman that is invited to a house on the 
occasion of an entertainment is not acquainted with 
all the members of the family, his first duty, after 
speaking to the host and hostess, is to ask some 
common friend to introduce him to those members 
that he does not know. 

" Though not customary for married persons to 
dance together in society, those men who wish to 
show their wives the compliment of such an un- 
usual attention, if they possess any independence, 
will not be deterred/' says Mrs. Ward, " from 
doing so by their fear of any comments from Mrs. 
Grundy. ' ' 

" The sooner we recover from the effects of the 
Puritanical idea that clergymen ought never to be 
seen at balls, the better for all who attend them/' 



94 



THE MENTOR. 



says Mrs. Ward. " Where it is wrong for a clergy- 
man to go, it is wrong for any member of his 
church to be seen." 

The sons of a house where an entertainment is 
given must for that evening refrain from engaging 
in any flirtations, or from showing in any way their 
preferences. Nothing is more at variance with good 
breeding than for them to do otherwise. It is their 
imperative duty to see that no one is neglected. 

A gentleman should not take a vacant seat next 
to a lady that is a stranger to him, nor next to an 
acquaintance without first asking her permission. 

Always give your partner your undivided atten- 
tion. To let your eyes wander about the room, or 
to betray an interest in others, is the reverse of flat- 
tering to her. 

When you conduct your partner back to her seat, 
do not remain too long in conversation with her. 
We go into society to take part in a general inter- 
change of civilities, and not to engage in prolonged 
tete-a tetes. 

There is a very old injunction that says that you 
should never wait till the music begins to engage 
your partner. 



IN PUBLIC. 



95 



Though a gentleman would naturally give special 
attention to a lady he escorted to a ball, he should 
leave her every opportunity to accept the attentions 
of others. Any attempt to monopolize her society, 
though she were his betrothed, would be thoroughly 
plebeian. He should call for her punctually, tak- 
ing a bouquet for her if he chooses, or, better, if 
the spirit moves him, sending one in the afternoon 
with his card. Arrived, he leaves her at the door 
of the ladies' dressing-room, and himself goes to 
the gentlemen's. Having arranged his dress and 
put on his white kid gloves, he goes and waits at 
the ladies' room till his companion appears, when 
he escorts her to the ball-room. Having exchanged 
salutations with the hostess, he leads her to a seat. 
He will dance the first set with her and also another 
set in the course of the evening. On no account 
will he dance two sets with her in succession. 
During the rest of the evening, it is his duty to see 
that she is not neglected, that she is provided with 
partners, and w r ith an escort to supper. Finally, 
he will be ready to conduct her home when she ex- 
presses a wish to go, and will personally inquire 
after her health the next day. 
7 



96 



THE MENTOR. 



The author of " Social Etiquette of New York" 
settles a question of some moment, quite to her 
satisfaction, and also, I am willing to believe, to the 
satisfaction of the ladies generally, in this -wise : 
" Now, just at this point arises a question that has 
long been in dispute, and it may as well be settled 
at once : ' Which side of the stairway, the rail or 
the wall, should be accorded to a lady ? 3 

V It has been discussed by gentlemen, as if it 
were a matter for them to decide, which it is not, 
by any means. Such ladies as have been given 
their choice have invariably said : ' Permit me to 
take your left arm with my right hand, and it does 
not matter whether it is wall or rail that I am 
nearest in going up or down stairs. I can better 
care for myself than you can care for me. ' 

Sometimes the turning or curving of the stair- 
case so narrows the steps on the rail side as to make 
them dangerous to heedless feet. In such a case a 
lady must cling to the arm of her escort, or else 
clasp the rail with her fresh and tightly-fitting 
gloves, which last she is never willing to do if she 
can avoid it. 

" Of course a gentleman cannot always wait to 



IN PUBLIC. 



97 



examine the architectural peculiarities of a staircase 
before he decides which arm will best satisfy the 
lady whom he desires to benefit. He is safe in 
offering her his left. If she declines assistance, she 
will choose which part of the stairs she likes best to 
ascend, and the gentleman will precede her by two 
or three steps. On going down, he is always 
slightly in advance of her. This arrangement settles 
the question satisfactorily to the ladies, and gentle- 
men have really no right to a choice in this matter. " 

" Oftener than otherwise/' says M Social Eti- 
quette," " the lady of to-day does not lean upon 
the arm of her escort, but advances into the salon 
unassisted. Indeed, the ancient custom is falling 
into disuse in our fashionable society. 

" The lady precedes the gentleman by a step or 
two, when entering or passing out from an apart- 
ment, provided she does not retain his arm. In 
the highest circles of France, the lady enters 
several steps in advance of the gentleman at a 
formal reception. Our custom of precedence is 
not quite so pronounced as that." 

If you leave a ball, or party of any kind, before 
the music ceases, do it as quietly as possible, in 



98 



THE MENTOR. 



order that your going may not be observed by 
others and so break up the party. If you meet the 
hostess on your way out take leave of her in such a 
manner that other guests may not observe you. As 
for looking for her it is quite unnecessary. 

Party calls, as they are termed — i.e., calls to 
recognize the obligation for having been honored 
with an invitation — are made on the hostess on her 
first regular reception day after the entertainment, 
whether you were at it or not. If she has no 
regular reception day, then a call should be made, 
or cards left, within, at the farthest, ten days. 

Though a man may take no great pleasure in 
card-playing, it is very desirable that he should be 
able to play those games that are most played in 
society — in this country, whist and euchre for ex- 
ample. A man should go into society as much to 
make himself useful as in search of amusement. 
If a fourth hand is wanted at a rubber, he should 
be able not only to take it, but to acquit himself 
fairly well. 

In general society, the card-table is generally re- 
served for elderly people, who always take prece- 
dence over the young. 



IN PUBLIC. 



99 



Husband and wife should not play in the same 
table, except where the company is so small that it 
cannot be avoided. The supposition is that they 
are so well acquainted with each other s mode of 
playing that they would have an unfair advantage. 
Then again, married people go into society to ex- 
change civilities with others and not with them- 
selves. 

Never, under any circumstances, cheat or wilfully 
violate the rules of the game. To do either is to 
be guilty of a species of buffoonery. 

Never lose your temper at the card-table. You 
should not play unless you can bear ill-luck with 
composure, and can pass over any blunders your 
partner may make with serenity. 

Unless you are playing with familiars, do not 
urge any one to play faster. The patient man is 
never uncivil. 

Some ungallant monster has said that women 
have only two passions, love and avarice, and that, 
though the latter ill-becomes them, yet it is so 
strong that they can rarely conceal it at the card- 
table. For this reason, he adds, it is always pain- 
ful to see them play when there is any stake. 



100 



THE MENTOR. 



As a rule in good society, in this country, no 
stake is played for, and when there is — here as 
elsewhere — it is understood that though one does 
play with money one does not play for money. 

When the cards are being dealt by another, keep 
your hands out of the way, and do not touch your 
cards until all have been dealt. 

In playing, throw your cards down quietly, and 
not violently, after the fashion of the card-players 
one sees in lager-beer saloons. 

" The new etiquette regarding costume at places 
of amusement began only lately to shape itself into 
formality in New York. It is now considered 
quite proper for a gentleman to attend an opera in 
a matinee suit, provided seats have been taken else- 
where than in a box, but he is limited in his visits 
between the acts to such of his acquaintances as are 
also in demi-toilet, unless he goes to the foyer to 
chat with promenaders. 

" If a gentleman is in full dress, he may visit 
everywhere in the house, but he will not seat him- 
self in the orchestra or in the dress circle, because 
his toilet will appear out of harmony with the 
soberer garments about him." 



IN PUBLIC. 



101 



Thus wrote the author of " Social Etiquette of 
New York," in 1878, and yet the fact is that there 
are many men in New York that are in the habit 
of wearing full dress at all our better theatres on all 
1 1 first nights, ' ' no matter where their seats may be, 
and always when they go to the theatre accom- 
panied by ladies. Thus we see that opinions in 
this matter differ materially. To the writer it seems 
that a morning suit — black frock coat and dark 
trousers — is fully as appropriate as full dress on all 
occasions where the ladies are not expected to be in 
full dress, which they are not in any of our parquets 
or dress circles. There is something sorely incon- 
gruous in the picture presented by a lady in a sober, 
high-necked gown and an extensive hat seated be- 
side a man in a swallow-tailed coat, a low-cut waist- 
coat and a white necktie. And then does it not 
look very much as though he had no demi-toilet suit 
with which to make his appearance correspond with 
that of the lady ? 

Social Etiquette" says further : " He may 
properly wear gloves when he is not in full dress, as 
this slight formality of attire is in keeping with the 
style of his costume. If he wears a dress coat and 



102 



THE MENTOR. 



an evening necktie, it is permissible for him to ap- 
pear without gloves. " 

For several years gloves were little worn by men, 
especially with full dress, even at dancing-parties 
and balls, but of late the wearing of gloves, particu- 
larly at parties and balls, is the rule rather than the 
exception. An ungloved man certainly never looks 
dressed. From present indications gloves will soon 
be as generally worn as they ever have been. 

A gentleman inviting a lady to go with him to an 
entertainment, theatrical, musical, or whatever it 
maybe, should take care to do so betimes, and also 
in case full dress will be necessary to let her know 
it. This is a consideration that often has gieat 
weight with a lady in deciding whether she shall ac- 
cept or not. 

Unless a lady is in full dress, or the weather is 
bad, it is not generally deemed necessary, in the 
cities at least, to provide a carriage. Women of 
the best sort do not like to see men put themselves 
to any expense that is not really demanded when 
they offer them a civility, no matter what their cir- 
cumstances may be. It is economy and not lavish- 
ness that commands respect, among sensible peo- 



IN PUBLIC. 



103 



pie, the world over. The vulgar synonym for 
ostentation, remember, is splurge. 

You should always try to be in your seat before 
an entertainment begins, and if, unavoidably, jou 
are late, you should await a fitting time to go to it. 
There are many thoughtless, inconsiderate, stupid 
people that if they chance to arrive during the prog- 
ress of the best scene in a play, or during the sing- 
ing of the finest aria in an opera, will immediately 
go to their seats, though in doing so they disturb 
the whole house, artists and all. If you arrive late 
and there are any back seats unoccupied take them 
temporarily, and if there are none unoccupied re- 
main standing until you can go to your seats with- 
out disturbing any one. You have no more right 
to disturb others at a place of amusement than you 
have to pick their pockets, for when you disturb 
them you rob them of a part of that for which they 
have paid their money. 

In finding the way to seats, the gentleman should 
precede the lady, if there is no usher ; if there is an 
usher, the lady should precede the gentleman. 
The lady always takes the inner seat. 

If it is necessary to pass others to reach your 



104 



THE MENTOR. 



seats, turn the face and not the back to those you 
pass. 

If your seats are easy of access and your com- 
panion has gentlemen acquaintances in the audi- 
ence, you need not fear that she will upbraid you 
for leaving her two or three times in the course of 
the evening, during the pauses, in order to give them 
an opportunity to visit her. Nothing delights the 
female heart more than to have a bevy of gentle- 
manly-looking men gather about her in public. If 
she has no acquaintances to visit her, she should 
not be left alone more than once during the even- 
ing, and then not for more than a few minutes. 

At a place of amusement you should never relin- 
quish your seat in favor of a lady, unless she is a 
friend of your companion, or is aged or infirm, and 
not then without first getting your companion's 
consent. 

Considerate persons never talk so loud at a place 
of amusement as to disturb others, and none but 
snobs ever make remarks about a performance in a 
tone that can be heard by those in their neighbor- 
hood. We sometimes encounter a kind of snob- 
bishness in play-houses and concert halls that is 



IN PUBLIC. 



105 



much given to talking to its companions and at 
those sitting near. It often belongs to persons that 
have " done" many lands, glancing at the outside 
of many houses and seeing the inside of a few. 

If you would eat candy, oranges, apples, or nuts 
or anything else at the theatre, you would do well 
to go to the gallery. There the eating of fruit and 
sweetmeats is much less likely to attract attention 
than in other parts of the house, where you would 
generally find yourself surrounded by persons that 
are strongly opposed to munching at places of 
amusement. 

There are many men in this country — but not in 
Europe — that seem to think it beneath their dignity 
to applaud at a place of amusement. It is never be- 
neath any man's dignity to recognize the obligation 
when another exerts himself to please him. Ap- 
plause is the only way the auditor has of testifying 
his appreciation of a performer's efforts and skill. 
Nor is this all. There is a selfish reason why the 
auditor should applaud : without this kind of 
encouragement no performer, no matter how great 
his experience, can do his best. Intelligent ap- 
plause is no small part of the return an actor or 



106 



THE MENTOR. 



singer gets for his exertions. Gratitude and recog- 
nition are two of the sweetest things in life, and the 
lack of them makes more misanthropes than every- 
thing else put together. 

Finally, if you remain to the end of a perform- 
ance, remain indeed to the end — remain in your 
seat and remain quiet until the last word has been 
spoken, or the last note has been sung. Be not 
one of those unbred persons that when the end ap- 
proaches begin to make ready to go, or perhaps get 
up and push past others, disturbing everybody in 
the house, players as well as auditors, in their sel- 
fish haste to reach the door. I repeat : You have 
no more right to disturb others at a place of amuse- 
ment than you have to pick their pockets, for when 
you disturb others you rob them of a part of that 
for which they have paid their money. 

If you pass through a door that is closed, leave it 
closed. 

If you pass through a door that has a spring on 
it, see that it does not slam. 

If your feet are muddy, find some means of clean- 
ing them before you pass through anybody's door. 

If you pretend to wash your hands, wash them ; 



IN PUBLIC. 



107 



do not simply wet them, and then wipe the dirt off 
on the towel. 

If you visit beer-saloons or oyster- saloons, do not 
copy the phraseology of the waiters ; the men that 
do it are never men of refined instincts. Never cry 
out " eins," after the fashion of the waiters in beer- 
saloons, nor " one," or " a stew/' or " a fry," as 
the waiters do in oyster-saloons. 

If you would be worthy to live among well-bred, 
right-thinking people you will always consider the 
interest, respect the rights, and study the comfort of 
others. For example, if you visit a reading-room 
where the aim is so to keep the newspapers that any 
particular one can be easily found, you will always 
be careful to put those you read back in their 
proper places ; you will never scratch a match on 
anybody's wall or woodwork ; you will never spit 
on anybody's floor, whether carpeted or not ; you 
will never walk over the upholstered seats of a place 
of amusement, and so on. The doing or the leav- 
ing undone of little things is a sure index of a 
man's breeding or of his lack of it. 

If you would preserve your health, never drink 
anything but water between meals. 



108 



THE MENTOR. 



If you would preserve your good name, keep 
away from bar-rooms. 

If you would preserve your self-respect, keep 
away from bar-rooms. 

If you would preserve your good manners, keep 
away from bar-rooms. 

If you would preserve your good looks, keep 
away from bar-rooms. 

If you would keep out of the clutches of the 
devil, keep away from bar-rooms. 



CONVERSATION. 



The first rule of speaking well is to think well. — Mme. 
de Lambert. 

Attention is a tacit and continual compliment. — 
Mme. Swetchine. 

Gravity is a stratagem invented to conceal the pov- 
erty of the mind. — La Rochefoucauld. 

To discuss an opinion with a fool is like carrying a 
lantern before a blind man. — De Gaston. 

To use many circumstances ere you come to matter is 
wearisome ; and to use none at all is blunt. — Bacon. 

That is the happiest conversation where there is no 
competition, no vanity, but only a calm, quiet inter- 
change of sentiment. — Johnson. 

If you your lips 

Would keep from slips, 
Five things observe with care : 

Of whom you speak, 

To whom you speak, 
And how, and when, and where. 



110 



THE MENTOR. 



If you your ears 

Would save from jeers, 
These things keep meekly hid : 

Myself and I, 

And mine and my, 
And how I do or did. 

Though there are not many persons that seem to 
think so, still it is true that the value of no other 
accomplishment can be compared with that of a 
thorough knowledge of one's mother tongue, be 
that tongue what it may. The most of us do more 
or less talking in the course of every one of our 
waking hours, and we impress those that hear us, 
favorably or unfavorably- — as far as our culture is 
concerned — according to the manner in which we 
express ourselves. The tones of the voice, the con- 
struction of our sentences, the choice of our words, 
and the manner in which we pronounce and articu- 
late them — all have their influence in impressing, 
either favorably or unfavorably, even the most un- 
lettered. How desirable then it is that we should 
cultivate the graces of speech, which are first among 
the rudiments of the Art of Conversation ! 

" There is a part of our education," says a clever 



CONVERSATION. 



Ill 



English writer, " so important and so neglected in 
our schools and colleges, that it cannot be too 
highly impressed on the young man that proposes 
to enter society. I mean the part that we learn 
first of all things, yet often have not learned well 
when death eases us of the necessity — the art of 
speaking our own language. In every-day life the 
value of Greek and Latin, French and German is 
small, when compared with that of English. We 
are often encouraged to raise a laugh at Doctor 
Syntax and the tyranny of grammar, but we may 
be certain that many misunderstandings arise from 
a want of grammatical precision. 

" There is no society without interchange of 
thought, and since the best society is that in which 
the best thoughts are interchanged in the best and 
most comprehensible manner, it follows that a 

PROPER MODE OF EXPRESSING OURSELVES IS INDISPEN- 
SABLE IN GOOD SOCIETY. 

" The commonest thought well put," says an- 
other English writer, " is more useful, in a social 
point of view, than the most brilliant idea jumbled 
out. What is well expressed is easily seized, and 

therefore readily responded to ; the most poetic 
8 



112 



THE MENTOR. 



fancy may be lost to the hearer if the language that 
conveys it is obscure. Speech is the gift that distin- 
guishes man from the lower animals and makes so- 
ciety possible. He has but a poor appreciation of 
his privilege as a human being who neglects to cul- 
tivate ' God's great gift of speech.' " 

" The manner in which things are said," says a 
French philosopher, " is almost as important as the 
things themselves. For one man that judges you 
by your thought there are twenty that judge you by 
the manner in which your thought is presented. 
Not only should your words be well chosen, but 
your bearing should be self-possessed and the tones 
of your voice agreeable. " 

M. L. H., in Lippincotf s Magazine for February, 
1883, writes very instructively on the art of conver- 
sation as follows : " How seldom it is that one en- 
joys the pleasure of a real conversation, taking the 
word to mean something more than the casual chat 
of calling acquaintances, and something different 
from the confidential intercourse of familiar 
friends ! 

" There is no pastime more delightful in its way 
than the leisurely talk of a company of congenial 



CONVERSATION. 



113 



persons met for the simple enjoyment of one an- 
other's society, the agreeable interchange of ideas 
and sentiments, and it would seem that this pleas- 
ure should be an easily attainable one. As a matter 
of fact, however, the entertainment is not so cheap 
and easy to be had as might be supposed. 

" It is a privilege restricted mostly to the dwellers 
in our larger cities, where, although social life may 
have a tendency to form itself into separate circles, 
yet each of these has a circumference great enough 
to include a sufficient number of persons disposed 
to draw together by natural affinities. In our 
smaller provincial cities and towns there is, gen- 
erally speaking, nothing that can be called society, 
and conversation is not a lost art, but an art un- 
known. In such places as these the hostess who 
should offer her guests no other entertainment than 
the conversation of their equals would, I fear, be 
thought to provide for them but badly. If this be 
true, it certainly is a reflection upon those who 
compose this provincial society so called : it seems 
to argue a lack of brains, culture, and social tact, 
when the result of their gathering together is only a 
common boredom. 



114 



THE MENTOR. 



" Yet, on second thoughts, this inability to make 
conversation a mutually agreeable thing has its 
partial explanation in the circumstances of the 
case. Each unit of the small provincial whole lives 
in a narrow round of his own ; his occupations and 
interests are necessarily much the same as those of 
his neighbor, and it is not possible for either of 
them to bring anything very novel or amusing by 
way of contribution to the social repast. The daily 
life of the resident of a large city is, by compari- 
son, infinitely varied and full of incident ; he dines 
to-day with B. and meets C. and D. , but to-day is 
not the simple repetition of yesterday, for then it 
was A. that entertained him, and the guests were 
E. and F. 

Doubtless there is an ideal of conversation that 
is not commonly realized. It implies the gathering 
together of a certain — not too large— number of 
men and women, each of whom is both able and 
willing to play his individual part. It does not 
need the possession of brilliant gifts in every mem- 
ber, nor even in any one member of the company ; 
it needs only a fair amount of intelligence and cult- 
ure, and of that ready perception of the drift and 



CONVERSATION. 



115 



meaning of the words of others, which may be called 
a sort of intellectual tact. ' The whole force 01 
conversation/ it has been said, ' depends upon how 
much you can take for granted. Vulgar chess- 
players have to play the game out/ 

" More than anything else, conversation implies 
individual self-abnegation, the putting out of sight 
of large egotisms and small vanities, and content- 
ment with one's due share of attention only. There 
need not be agreement of opinion, but there must 
be mutual tolerance. 

" It also implies individual responsibility and the 
obligation of every one to give of his best. Intel- 
lectual sloth has no place at the feast of reason. 

" One need not shine in the talk, but one must 
at least be able to listen intelligently. 

" How much of the charm of words lies in the 
manner in which they are spoken ! Our thoughts 
and sentiments have not one mode of expression, 
but a hundred ; the tone of the voice interprets the 
meaning of the word, the glance and the smile 
soften or intensify it. 

" Conversation is seldom so agreeable as around 
a dinner-table of the right size, where the talk is 



116 



THE MENTOR. 



general and lively without confusion. At a large 
gathering, where the company inevitably breaks up 
into groups, conversation may flourish more or less 
brightly, but never quite so well as where the guests 
are few and congenial and form but a single circle. 

" I often wonder why it is that there is such diffi- 
culty in getting people to unite in making the talk 
general. Some perverse instinct seems to drive 
them to split apart ; the force of repulsion is stronger 
than that of attraction ; six or eight persons are 
engaged in four duets, and, if the talk begins to 
flag between numbers one and two, nothing better 
occurs to them than to exchange partners with three 
and four and raise a distracting cross-fire. If I 
want to see a friend alone, it is usually easy to ac- 
complish it ; but if I try to hold a pleasant conver- 
sation with three or four other friends at the same 
time, they too often appear to conspire together to 
defeat my wish. " 

If one would have an agreeable manner in con- 
versation, there are certain things that must be 
attended to : 

i. One must cultivate repose. The man that 
fidgets, tags at his beard, runs his fingers through 



CONVERSATION. 



117 



his hair, rubs his hands, cracks his finger- joints, 
grates his teeth, or indulges in much gesticulation, 
while very likely he sits cross-legged arid swings one 
foot, is never an agreeable person to talk with. 
This restlessness is always an evidence of weakness. 
That kind of strength that brings with it a feeling 
that one is equal to the situation is always accom- 
panied with that quiet self-possession that we call 
repose. 

2. One must avoid interrupting. Always let your 
interlocutor finish what he has to say. Note the 
points that you would reply to, and wait patiently 
till it is your turn to speak. The world is full of 
ill-bred persons that have the habit of breaking in 
on the speaker as soon as he says anything they 
would reply to, or that suggests a thought. Wait, 
I repeat, and wait patiently and respectfully, as the 
American Indian always does, till your interlocutor 
has finished. Men that continually interrupt are 
always men whose early training was very faulty. 
With such men conversation is impossible. 

3. One must learn to listen. It is not sufficient to 
keep silent. You should be attentive, seem to be 
interested and not wear the expression of a martyr. 



118 



THE MENTOR. 



There are those whose mien when they listen seems 
to say : " Will he ever get through and let me give 
breath to the words of wisdom \" or, " Poor me, 
how long will this torture last \" or, ' ' When you get 
through, I'll show you in a word or two what non- 
sense you talk ! ' ' Such listeners are generally per- 
sons that think their utterances much more heavily 
freighted with wisdom than other people think them. 

4. One must learn not to speak too long at a time. 
The social monologist is one of the most disagree- 
able characters one ever meets with. There are two 
species of them. To the one belong those egotis- 
tic, patronizing creatures that seem to take pity on 
you and do all the talking in order to put you at 
ease in their august presence. To the other be- 
long those men that talk much and say little ; that 
go over a deal of surface and never get below it ; 
that go round and round, and up and down in 
search of some way to get at the pith of the mat- 
ter, until they finally give up the chase in despair. 
Of the two species, the first is the least tiresome — 
and the least numerous — as there is always some- 
thing ludicrous, and consequently amusing, in their 
coxcombry. 



CONVERSATION. 



119 



5. One must learn — if one can — to stick to the sub- 
ject under consideration. Pausing to remark upon 
the irrelevant that may be suggested in the course 
of a conversation is a characteristic of the female 
mind. Many men, however, are as great sinners 
in this direction as are women generally. This is 
a fault peculiar to persons of hazy mental vision, 
and is very trying to those of clearer perceptions. 

6. One must learn not to laugh at one s own wit, 
nor to chuckle at one's own remarks. There are men 
that cannot take part m a conversation without fall- 
ing into a broad grin, which frequently develops 
into a chuckle that renders their articulation indis- 
tinct. This is a habit that is among the easiest to 
correct. 

7. One must learn to control one's temper. There 
are those that habitually — and involuntarily, perhaps 
— take refuge in indignation the moment they are 
opposed, and especially if they are opposed with 
reasons that are too weighty for their logic. Then 
there are others that have so exalted an opinion of 
their own opinions that they think it presumption 
on the part of another to question their correctness 
and resent any opposition as an indignity. It is 



120 



THE MENTOR. 



not the wise that are least respectful to those that 
venture to differ from them. 

8. One must be careful to avoid a certain labial ges- 
ticulation, and a certain " fakey J toss of the head thai 
some unbred people indulge in, when they talk. Of all 
the vulgar habits that vulgar people indulge in in 
conversation, this is one of the most vulgar. 

9. Never, anywhere or under any circumstances, 
talk with a toothpick, a cigar, or a cigarette in your 
mouth. Anything more disrespectful or more thor- 
oughly low we rarely have to complain of. And 
yet we sometimes see men standing in the street 
talking to women — not ladies, for a lady does not 
allow herself to be treated with such disrespect — 
with cigars in their mouths. 

The author of " Mixing in Good Society" says : 
c< We must not bring our gloomy moods or irri- 
table temper with us into society. To look pleas- 
ant is a duty we owe to others. One is bound to 
listen with the appearance of interest even to the 
most inveterate proser who fastens upon us in soci- 
ety ; to smile at a twice-told tale ; and, in short, to 
make such minor sacrifices of sincerity as good 
manners and good feeling demand. 



CONVERSATION. 



** In conversation the face should wear something 
that is akin to a smile ; a smile, as it were, below 
the surface. 

" We should always look at the person who ad- 
dresses us, and listen deferentially to whatever he 
says. When we make answer, we should endeavor 
to express our best thoughts in our best manner. 
A loose manner of expression injures ourselves 
more than our interlocutor ; since, if we talk care- 
lessly to those whom we will not take the trouble 
to please, we shall feel at a loss for apt words and 
correct elocution when we need them. 

" Always think before you speak ; as thus only 
can you acquire the habit of speaking to the pur- 
pose.'' 

Good talkers are generally deliberate talkers. 

44 Polite vulgarisms must be scrupulously guarded 
against. A well-educated person proclaims himself 
by the simplicity and terseness of his language. It 
is only the half-educated who indulge in fine lan- 
guage, and think that long words and high-sound- 
ing phrases are distingue. 

" Everything approaching to extravagance in 
conversation is objectionable. We should endeavor 



122 



THE MENTOR, 



to ascertain the precise meaning of the words we 
employ, and employ them at the right time only. 
Such phrases as ' awfully hot,' ' immensely jolly/ 
* abominably dull/ ' disgustingly mean/ etc. etc., 
are used in the most reckless manner. This hyper- 
bolical way of speaking is mere flippancy, without 
wit or novelty to recommend it/ ' 

The late Dr. George Ripley was wont to say that 
the secret of being agreeable in conversation was to 
be hospitable to the ideas of others. He affirmed 
that some people only half listened to you, because 
they were considering, even while you spoke, with 
what fine words, what wealth of wit, they should 
reply, and they began to speak almost before your 
sentence had died from your lips. Those people, 
he said, might be brilliant, witty, dazziing, but never 
could they be agreeable. You do not love to talk 
to them. You feel that they are impatient for their 
turn to come, and that they have no hospitality 
toward your thoughts — none of that gentle friendli- 
ness that asks your idea in and makes much of it. 

" Dean Swift," says an English writer, " with 
his keen eye for the foibles of his fellows, has put 
on record some faults in conversation that every 



CON VERSA TION. 



123 



one that wishes to be an agreeable talker should 
make it his business to avoid. 

" He justly condemns the habit of talking too 
much. No man in a company has a right to pre- 
dominate in length and frequency of speech, any 
more than a player in an orchestra has a right to 
convert the performance into a solo. Even if a 
man can talk as well as a Macaulay, he has no right 
to prevent others from talking. They have come 
not to hear a lecture, but to converse ; to talk as 
well as to listen ; to contribute as well as to receive. 
Even the listeners and admirers that gathered 
around Macaulay sometimes longed for a ' flash of 
silence.' Oh, the misery of it, when some inordi- 
nate gossip gets you by the buttonhole and drums 
away at your aching tympanum with an incessant 
crash of prattle ! 

" Still more wearisome is the talk of those who 
will talk only of themselves ; whose everlasting ' I ' 
recurs in their speech as certainly as the head of 
Charles the First turned up in the speech of Mr. 
Dick. They deluge their hearers with the milk- 
and-water history of their sayings and doings from 
childhood upward ; and relate the annals of their 



124 



THE MENTOR. 



diseases with all the symptoms and attendant cir- 
cumstances. To a talker of this sort to have the 
measles is a delight — the small-pox a boon. A 
gentleman will never admit that his constitution is 
anything but sound — in conversation. Of all bores 
the greatest is he that carries his pills, powders, and 
plasters into the society of his friends ; that bids the 
world listen when he snee2.es, and thinks his rheu- 
matism a matter of national concern. 

" Others, as the Dean remarks, are more dexter- 
ous, and with great art will lie on the watch to hook 
in their own praise : ' They will call a witness to 
remember they always foretold what would happen 
in such a case, but none would believe them ; they 
advised such a man from the beginning, and told 
him the consequences just as they happened, but 
he would have his own way. Others make a vanity 
of telling their own faults ; they are the strangest 
men in the world ; they cannot dissemble ; they 
own it is a folly ; they have lost abundance of advan- 
tages by it ; but if you should give them the world 
they could not help it ; there is something in their 
nature that abhors insincerity and constraint — with 
many other insufferable topics of the same altitude/ 



CONVERSA TION. 



125 



" The most successful talker is the man that has 
most to say that is sensible and entertaining on the 
greatest number of subjects. A specialist can never 
make a good conversationist ; his mind runs al- 
ways in one groove. 

" Swift comments upon two faults in conversation 
that appear very different, yet spring from the same 
root and are equally blamable ; the first, an impa- 
tience to interrupt others ; the second, a great un- 
easiness when we are ourselves interrupted. The 
chief objects of all conversation, whether conversa- 
tion proper or small talk, are to entertain and im- 
prove our companions, and in our own persons to 
be improved and entertained. If we steadily aim 
at these objects, we shall certainly escape the two 
faults indicated by the dean. If any man speak in 
company, we may suppose he does it for his 
hearers' sake, and not for his own ; so that com- 
mon discretion will teach him not to force their at- 
tention if they are unwilling to lend it, nor, on the 
other hand, to interrupt him who is in possession, 
because that is the grossest manner to indicate his 
conviction of his own superiority. 

" There are some people/' says Swift, " whose 



126 



THE MENTOR. 



good manners will not suffer them to interrupt 
vou ; but, what is almost as bad, thev will discover 
abundance of impatience, and be upon the watch 
until you have done, because they have started 
something in their own thoughts that they long to 
be delivered of. Meantime, they are so far from 
regarding what passes that their imaginations are 
wholly turned upon what they have in reserve, for 
fear it should slip out of their memory ; and thus 
they confine their invention, which might otherwise 
range over a hundred things fully as good and that 
might be much more naturally introduced. 

" I think that wit must be introduced into con- 
versation with great reserve. Such a caution seems, 
however, little called for, considering the limited 
number of persons to whom it applies ; but there is 
a cheap form of wit that most ill-natured persons 
can plagiarize, and in a mixed company its effects 
are not seldom disagreeable ; that is, the repartee, 
or smart answer, which assuredly does not turn 
away wrath ; the epigrammatic impertinence that 
young speakers suppose to be wit. 1 It now passes 
for raillery, ' says Swift, ' to run a man down in dis- 
course, to put him out of countenance and make 



CON VERSA 1 ION. 



12? 



him ridiculous ; sometimes to expose the defects of 
his person or understanding ; on all which occa- 
sions he is obliged not to be angry, to avoid the 
imputation of not being able to take a jest. It is 
admirable to observe one who is dexterous at this 
art singling out a weak adversary, getting the laugh 
on his side, and then carrying all before him. The 
French, whence we borrow the word ' raillery, '' have 
a quite different idea of the thing, and so had we in 
the politer ages of our fathers. Raillery was to say 
something that at first appeared a reproach or reflec- 
tion, but by some turn of wit, unexpected and sur- 
prising, ended always in a compliment, and to the 
advantage of the person it was addressed to. And, 
surely, one of the best rules in conversation is, never 
to say a thing that any of the company can reason- 
ably wish we had left unsaid ; nor can there well be 
anything more contrary to the ends for which peo- 
ple meet together than to part dissatisfied with one 
another or with themselves. 

" This fatal kind of smartness, which all may 
master who have no regard for the feelings of others, 
is very much more common now, I imagine, than 

in Swift's time, when people could hardly be per 

9 



128 



THJ$ MENTOR. 



suaded that wit and rudeness were synonymous. It 
has found its way into the House of Commons, 
where it is assiduously practised by men that have 
little hope by more worthy means of achieving a 
reputation ; and on the stage, where, in ■ drawing- 
rooms richly upholstered/' the characters pass their 
time in saying impertinent things to one another. 
That such flippancy should pass muster as wit can- 
not, however, be wondered at in a generation that 
mistakes sensuousness for poetry, aestheticism for 
art, and charlatanism for statesmanship ! 

" I have already made a distinction between con- 
versation and small talk ; bat after all, the cautions 
that apply to the one have a distinct reference to 
the other. I presume that a good conversationist 
is also a good small- talker ; though, of course, the 
reverse does not follow ; a man may shine in small 
talk, and prove very dull in conversation. It is not 
my object or desire to depreciate small talk, which, 
in the present condition of society, is a substitute 
for conversation, and in any condition would be a 
necessary complement of it. We cannot always be 
passing our five-pound notes * we must sometimes 
descend to inferior currency, and not only sov- 



CONVERSATION. 



129 



ereigns, but crowns and two -shilling pieces have 
their value. Besides, we cannot afford to carry on 
an exchange by which we always lose. We cannot 
give our five-pound notes when others stake but 
shillings and sixpences. Barter is fair and profit- 
able only when we get as much as we give. Our 
pockets may be full of sovereigns, and yet we shall 
hesitate to give one for a penny roll ; but to a man 
that has nothing but counters in his pocket, it does 
not matter whether the roll cost a penny or a shil- 
ling. The moral of this is, that we must put pence 
into our purse as well as pounds. For want of 
m such a precaution, the meditative scholar is often, 
in society, at a loss to find topics of conversation ; 
he has nothing small enough to give, and his com- 
panions have nothing with which to conduct an ex- 
change. It is wisdom, therefore, to pay close at- 
tention to this matter of small talk, and endeavor 
to arrive at a certain command of and proficiency 
in it. Men of the highest gifts cannot dispense 
with it if they wish to be at no disadvantage in their 
ordinary intercourse with mankind. 

' ' There are many spheres in which, I grant, the 
small- talker would be out of place. He would 



130 



THE MENTOR. 



make a sorry figure in an assembly of scholars and 
thinkers, engaged in the discussion of subjects as 
momentous and as profound as those with which 
Goethe overwhelmed the hapless Excelmann. His 
true arena is the dinner-table. It is there he can 
make the best use of the old, familiar weapons. 
He does not shun the traditional allusions to the 
weather or the crops ; and, indeed, it is clear that 
he must begin on some topic that he and his com- 
panions have in common. That once found, others 
will naturally spring out of it ; but in passing to 
and from them, much dexterity is required. If the 
small -talker shows any doubt of his own powers, or 
puts himself forward too obtrusively, he will come 
to grief, as we all instinctively rebel against an at- 
tempt to drag us into conversation. The string 
that leads us must be invisible. The exchange of 
small talk is like a game of battledoor in which an 
accomplished player will sometimes designedly 
drop his shutt/ecock, partly to flatter and propitiate 
his partner, and partly for the sake of a prospective 
advantage. When once he has full command of 
the game, he will quietly take the lead, and guide 
it surely but gently into the direction best adapted 



CON VERSA 77 ON. 



131 



for the display of his powers. The attractiveness of 
skilfully managed talk of this kind is felt by every- 
body ; and we remember with pleasure the evening 
when, unwittingly, we were taken captive by some 
man or woman whose intellectual superiority, per- 
haps, we should not be willing to admit, but who, 
we readily own, enabled us to pass some very 
pleasant hours. 

" But this small talk that so agreeably flavors 
conversation is different indeed from that very 
small talk in which society nowadays indulges so 
unblushingly, go where you will — not necessarily, 
as Mr. Hale remarks, into the society of the sub- 
urban ' Row ' or ' Terrace ' of semi-detached villas, 
nor into that of the small provincial town, or the 
colonial garrison ; but into that found in the 
homes and among the families of English gentle- 
men. Mr. Hale does not, I think, exaggerate 
when he says it is painful to listen to the general 
conversation ; the name of a common friend is 
mentioned, and something that he or she has said 
or done is commented upon with a freedom that, 
to be in any way justifiable, presupposes a thorough 
knowledge of all sides of the case ; and the minor 



132 



THE MENTOR. 



worries of life, servants, babies, and the like, fur- 
nish the theme for a multifarious and protracted 
discussion. If there is talk that should disgust all 
refined tastes and ordinarily intelligent minds, it 
is the farrago of trivialities that makes the daily 
staple of conversation in some of our English 
homes. As a proof that I do not exaggerate, let 
any one refrain for four-and-twenty hours from 
dealing with such ' small deer/ and observe how 
.great a difficulty he will experience in discovering 
subjects for conversation. This shows how injuri- 
ous the habit is. We feed so long on infant's food 
that we can digest nothing more substantial. Our 
small talk resembles a hand-organ, which is set to 
a certain number of airs, and grinds through these 
with monotonous regularity. 

" I have dwelt at some length on this subject, be- 
cause it seems to me of great importance. The 
whole tone of society would be raised if we could 
raise its conversational standard ; if we could lift it 
from very small talk to small talk and thence to 
conversation. Women especially may help toward 
a satisfactory result, for at present women are the 
great manufacturers of very small talk. Let them 



CONVERSATION. 



133 



rise to the measure of their duties ; men will soon 
follow their example, and we shall live to see the end 
of the very small -talk era. 

" In certain ' Hints upon Etiquette, ' byAyoDyo^ 
published nearly half a century ago, but character- 
ized by a good sense that must always render them 
valuable, I find a wise caution in reference to ' talk- 
ing shop,' which I may add to my own emphatic 
warning against this particularly disagreeable cus- 
tom. 1 There are few things, ' he says, ' that display 
worse taste than the introduction of professional top- 
ics in general conversation, especially if there be la- 
dies present ; the minds of those men must be mis- 
erably ill-stored who cannot find other subjects for 
conversation than their own professions. Who has 
not felt this on having been compelled to listen to 
" clerical slang/' musty college jokes, and anec- 
dotes divested of all interest beyond the atmosphere 
of a university; or 4 Maw-jokes/' with 1 ' good 
stories" of " learned counsel " long yarns," or 
the equally tiresome muster-roll of " our regi- 
ment" — colonels dead, maimed majors retired on 
pensions, subs lost or " exchanged," gravitating be- 
tween Boulogne and the " Bankruptcy Court "? 



134 



THE MENTOR. 



" ' All such exclusive topics are signs either of a 
limited intellect or the most lamentable ignorance. ' 
They are signs, too, of exceedingly bad breeding ; 
for the introduction of a topic on which no one 
can discourse but the speaker necessarily chokes 
out the life of a conversation, and for the lively talk 
of the many substitutes a dreary monologue. They 
imply an almost supernatural egotism, as if the 
speaker believed that all the world must perforce 
be interested in whatever concerns him. Needless 
to say that these remarks do not apply to the case 
of an acknowledged * expert - whose opinion has 
been invited on the questions that of right fall with- 
in his special province. Now, as a rule, society 
cares nothing for the individual ; and there can be 
no greater error than for a man to put forward in 
conversation his individual tastes, opinions, views, 
unless he has attained to a position that entitles 
him to speak as one having authority. And even 
then what he says should be general in tone and 
application, with as little allusion as possible to 
himself. Nor should he suffer his remarks to as- 
sume the form and proportions of an oration, lest 
his hearers, in spite of themselves, betray their weari- 



CONVERSATION. 



135 



ness. A St. Paul may preach, and yet Eutychus 
fall asleep ! In spite of his reputation as the Aris- 
tarchus of his day, Samuel Johnson could irritate 
his hearers into administering a rebuke to his ver- 
bosity. 

"The colloquial inferiority of the present gen- 
eration is attributed by Mr. Hannay purely to the 
action of the press. Newspapers, novels, maga- 
zines, reviews, he says, gather up the intellectual 
elements of our life like so many electric machines, 
drawing electricity from the atmosphere into them- 
selves. Everything, he adds, is recorded and dis- 
cussed in print, and subjects have lost their fresh- 
ness long before friends have assembled for the 
evening. And he concludes : ' Where there is 
talk of a superior character, it appears to affect the 
epigrammatic form ; and this is an unhealthy sign. 
If there were no other objection, how rarely can it 
avoid that appearance of self-consciousness and 
effort that is fatal to all elegance and ease. ' 

" Topics of conversation are not far to seek in 
these active days of ours, when the thoughts of 
men are widened by the process of the suns. The 
current history of the time — the last drama or 



136 THE MENTOR. 



opera or newest book, the scene of war — and 
there is always war somew r here — the last device of 
some scrupulously great or greatly unscrupulous 
statesman, the latest exploit of swimmer or moun- 
tain-climber, the last invention — these, and similar 
themes, will call forth and maintain an agreeable 
discussion. 

" You must learn to express yourself with con- 
ciseness and accuracy, and, if possible, with a 
happy turn of expression that, though it will not be 
wit, will sound witty. Your talk should not be in 
epigrams, yet should it be epigrammatic. Around 
the dinner-table, elaborate criticism or argument, 
pathos or profundity would be out of place. You 
are not to soliloquize like Hamlet, but to bandy 
light speches and sharp sayings like Mercutio. Of 
course you will avoid bitterness ; there must be no 
vinegar, but a touch of lemon- juice will flavor the 
mixture. 

" The epigrammatic is a valuable element, but 
should never predominate, since good conversation 
flows from a happy union of all the powers. To 
approximate to this, a certain amount of painstak- 
ing is necessary ; and, though artifice is detestable, 



CON VERSA TION. 



137 



we mast submit, that talk may be as legitimately 
made a subject of care and thought as any other 
part of a man's humanity, and that it is ridiculous 
to send your mind abroad in a state of slovenliness 
while you bestow on your body the most refined 
care. 

" I would establish but one great rule in conver- 
sation, " said Richard Steele, " which is this, that 
men should not talk to please themselves, but to 
please those that hear them. This would make 
them consider whether what they speak be worth 
hearing ; whether there be either wit or sense in 
what they are about to say, and whether it be 
adapted to the time when, the place where, and the 
person to whom it is spoken. 

" Conversation is a reflex of character. The en- 
vious, the pretentious, the impatient, the illiterate, 
will as surely betray their idiosyncrasies in conver- 
sation as the modest, the even-tempered, and the 
generous. Strive as we may, we cannot always be 
acting. 

" Let us, therefore, cultivate a tone of mind and 
a habit of life, the betrayal of which need not put us 
to shame in any company ; the rest will be easy. 



138 



THE MENTOR. 



" If we make ourselves worthy of refined and 
intelligent society, we shall not be rejected from 
it ; and in such society w T e shall acquire by example 
all that we have failed to learn by precept. 

" There is a certain distinct but subdued tone of 
voice that is peculiar to persons of the best breed- 
ing. It is better to err by the use of too low than 
of too loud a tone. 

" A half opened mouth, a smile ready to over- 
flow at any moment into a laugh, a vacant stare, a 
wandering eye, are all evidences of ill-breeding. 

" Next to unexceptional diction, correct pro- 
nunciation, distinct enunciation, and a frank, self- 
controlled bearing, it is necessary to be genial. 
Do not go into society unless you can make up 
your mind to be cheerful, sympathetic, animating 
as well as animated." 

Of the late George Eliot, who was one of the 
most agreeable talkers of her time, some one has 
said : " She had one rare characteristic that gave 
a peculiar charm to her conversation. She had no 
petty egotism, no spirit of contradiction ; she never 
talked for effect. A happy thought, well expressed, 
filled her with delight ; in a moment she would, 



CONVERSATION, 



139 



seize the thought and improve upon it, so that 
common people felt themselves wise in her pres- 
ence, and perhaps years after she wouid remind 
them, to their pride and surprise, of the good 
things they had said. " 

Avoid slang as you would the plague. It is a 
great mistake to suppose that slang is in any way a 
substitute for wit. It is always low, generally 
coarse, and not unfrequently foolish. With the 
exception of cant, there is nothing that is more to 
be shunned. We sometimes meet with persons of 
considerable culture that interlard their talk with 
slang expressions, but it is safe to assert that they 
are always persons of coarse natures. 

" Eschew everything that savors of the irreverent, 
and, as you love me, let not your tongue give way 
to slang ! The slang of the aesthetic disciple of 
sweetness and light — the slang of the new school of 
erotic poets — the slang of the art-critic — the slang 
of the studios — the slang of the green room — the 
slang of May fair — and the slang of the Haymarket ; 
shun each and all as you would flee from the shield 
of Medusa ! Plain English and pure, from the 
well undcfiled of the best writers and speakers — let 



140 



THE MENTOR. 



that be the vehicle in which your opinions are con- 
veyed, and the plainer and purer the better/' 

Profanity is absolutely incompatible with genuine 
refinement ; it is always ungentlemanly, and, there- 
fore, to be avoided. If those men that habitually 
interlard their talk with oaths could be made to see 
how offensive to decency their profanity is, they 
would, perhaps, be less profane. Really well-bred 
men are very careful to avoid the use of improper 
language of every description. 

" Immodest words admit of no defence, 
For want of decency is want of sense." 

" It is not easy to perceive/' says Lamont, 
■- what honor or credit is connected with swearing. 
It is a low and paltry habit, picked up by low 
and paltry spirits who have no sense of honor, no 
regard for decency, but are forced to substitute 
some rhapsody of nonsense to supply the vacancy 
of good sense. The vulgarity of the practice can 
be equalled only by the vulgarity of those who in- 
dulge in it." 

The extent to which some men habitually in- 
terlard their talk with oaths is disgusting even to 



CONVERSATION. 



141 



many that, on occasion, do not themselves hesitate 
to give expression to their feelings in oaths portly 
and unctuous. 

Among the things that are studiously avoided in 
conversation by persons of taste is the use of old, 
threadbare quotations. He that can't do better 
than to repeat such old, threadbare lines as 
"Variety is the spice of life," "Distance lends 
enchantment to the view," " A thing of beauty is 
a joy forever, " *' A rose by any other name would 
smell as sweet," and the like, would appear to bet- 
ter advantage by remaining silent. 

" Sir" and " madam," or 4 ' ma'am," are far too 
much used by some persons in this country, es- 
pecially in the South. In England- neither " sir" 
nor " madam" is considered proper, under ordi- 
nary circumstances, except on the lips of inferiors. 
A man having occasion to address a lady that is 
a stranger to him should always address her as 
" madam," never as " miss," if she has reached 
the age of womanhood, in which case courtesy sup- 
poses that she has entered that state that all women 
should enter as soon as they are fitted for it. 

One of the things that we should be most careful 



142 



THE MENTOR. 



to guard against in conversation, if we would appear 
to advantage in the eyes of persons of the better 
sort, is undue familiarity. The man of native refine- 
ment, as well as the man of culture, is always care- 
ful to observe — in a greater or less degree, according 
to circumstances — the conventionalities that obtain 
in refined social intercourse. Perhaps the most re- 
pulsive character to be met with is the youth that 
seems to think it makes him appear vastly more 
manly to Jack, Jim, or Joe his acquaintances, in 
addressing them, and to speak of persons that he 
may, or may not, know in a familiar, disrespect- 
ful manner. To him Mr. Sheridan Short, if he has 
occasion to speak of him, is simply " Shed Mr. 
Lester Bullock is simply " Lester Mr. John 
Guthbert is simply " old John," and so on. If 
this vulgar specimen of " Young America" has a 
father, he speaks of him as his " old man," and 
middle-aged and elderly men, if they have grown-up 
sons, he designates as " old man Burt," " old man 
Harrison," etc. This kind of youth is always one 
of those loud-mouthed, guffaw fellows that think 
themselves, as the Kentuckian would say, " simply 
mountaneous." 



CONVERSATION. 



143 



Story- telling in society is something that even 
those that tell stories well should indulge in but 
sparingly. All stories, unless well told, are tire- 
some ; and then there is always the danger that to 
some of those that are compelled to listen they will 
be a <s twice-told tale." A serious fault of many 
story-tellers is that they themselves cannot refrain 
from laughing at the humor of their own anecdotes. 
All stories should be told clearly and tersely, and be 
so managed as to have a marked climax ; and if the 
teller must laugh at them, he should be sure not to 
laugh until the climax is reached. The skilful do 
not think it incumbent on them to tell stories just 
as they hear them. Modifications that they think 
will render them more effective they do not hesitate 
to make. 

He that never will confess his ignorance nor 

admit that he has erred in judgment publishes his 

weakness when he thinks he is concealing it. 

There are no surer indications of strength than 

candor and frankness. Men of sense do not expect 

to be looked upon as being all-wise and infallible, 

and they know that a frank confession that they are 

ignorant or have erred, always works to their advan- 
10 



144 



THE MENTOR. 



tage ; and further, they feel that they are so wise and 
are so often right that they can afford to be frank in 
confessing their ignorance when they are ignorant 
and their errors when they have erred. " A man 
should never blush in confessing his errors/' says 
Rousseau, " for he proves by the avowal that he is 
wiser to-day than he was yesterday. " 

Relatives and intimate friends should be careful, 
in their associations with others, not to make an in- 
discreet or ungenerous use of the knowledge they 
have gained of one another. The wise man is 
silent in regard to the weaknesses of those with 
whom he stands in close relations. Indeed, there 
is something generous and noble in the endeavor to 
make men think as well of one another as a regard 
for truth will permit. The habitual depredator is 
one of the weakest and most unlovable of men. . 

One of the things we should be most studious to 
avoid in conversation is perversity. There are men 
that seem to think it their special mission in this 
world to set others right. Say what you may, and 
say it as you may, they will immediately proceed 
to show you that you are at least partly, if not wholly, 
wrong. As for agreeing with you, they never do, 



CONVERSATION. 



145 



unless, in disagreeing with a third person, they 
agree with you accidentally. It is hardly necessary 
to say that this perverseness is not a characteristic 
of persons of a generous nature or a large under- 
standing. It is the product of a feeling closely 
allied to envy, and is peculiar to men of overween- 
ing conceit and inordinate love of adulation. Quite 
unconsciously they oftentimes do little else than 
assail whatever is advanced by others, solely be- 
cause they cannot brook the thought that the atten- 
tion of the company be diverted from themselves. 

The old injunction, " If you cannot speak well 
of people, speak of them not at all," has never yet 
been heeded by any one, nor should it be, for it is 
by exchanging opinions of our acquaintances and 
by discussing their faults and weaknesses that we 
add to our knowledge of human nature, than which 
few things are more desirable. " There are two 
kinds of gossip/' says an English writer — " the 
good-humored and the scandalous— the gossip that 
touches lightly on faults and foibles, and amusing in- 
cidents and curious contrasts, and the gossip that 
peers into the privacy of domestic life, and invents or 
misrepresents. The latter no right-thinking person 



146 



THE MENTOR. 



will indulge in or listen to ; the former is the salt 
of ordinary conversation. We cannot help taking 
an interest in our fellows, and there is no reason 
why we should not, so long as that interest is not 
malignant." 

" Keep clear," says Dr. John Hall, " of person- 
alities in general conversation. Talk of things, ob- 
jects, thoughts. The smallest minds occupy them- 
selves with persons. Personalities must sometimes 
be talked, because we have to learn and find out 
men's characteristics for legitimate objects; but it 
is to be with confidential persons. Poor Burns 
wrote and did many foolish things, but he was wise 
when he wrote to a young friend : 

4< ' Ay, tell your story free, off-hand, 
When wf a bosom crony ; 
But still keep something to yoursel' 
You'll scarcely tell to ony.' 

" Do not needlessly report ill of others. There 
are times when we are compelled to say, ' I do not 
think Bouncer a true and honest man. ' But when 
there is no need to express an opinion, let poor 
Bouncer swagger away. Others will take his 



CONVERSA TION. 



147 



measure, no doubt, and save you the trouble of 
analyzing him and instructing them. And as far 
as possible dwell on the good side of human beings. 
There are family-boards where a constant process of 
depreciating, assigning motives and cutting up 
character goes forward. They are not pleasant 
places. One who is healthy does not wish to dine 
at a dissecting-table. There is evil enough in men, 
God knows. But it is not the mission of every 
young man and woman to detail and report it all. 
Keep the atmosphere as pure as possible, and fra- 
grant with gentleness and charity/' 

Persons of kindly natures take pleasure in repeat- 
ing the pleasant things they hear one acquaintance 
say of another ; on the other hand, persons of an 
envious, jealous nature repeat the unpleasant thing 
they hear, or nothing. There is nothing that does 
more to promote kindly feeling than the repeating 
of pleasant things. 

Never say, " It is my opinion," or " I believe," 
or " I think" — expressions that differ but little in 
meaning — when you are not thoroughly acquainted 
with the matter. In a matter of which a man has 
no knowledge he can have no opinion ; he can, at 



148 



THE MENTOR. 



the most, nave an impression. Say, therefore, when 
speaking of a matter of which you know little or 
nothing, if you would talk like a man of sense, 
" My impression is," or " from the little I know 
of the matter, my impression is," or " I know 
only enough of the matter to allow myself an im- 
pression, and that is, " or something of the sort. 
Men that are always ready with their " opinion' ' 
generally have no opinions of anything. 

" There is a kind of pin-feather gentility," says 
' ' The Verbalist," "that se^ms to have a settled 
aversion to using the terms man and woman. Well- 
bred men, men of culture and refinement — gentle- 
men, in short — use the terms lady and gentleman 
comparatively little, and they are especially careful 
not to call themselves gentlemen when they can avoid 
it. A gentleman, for example, does not say, ' I, 
with some other gentlemen, went/ etc. ; he is 
careful to leave out the word other. The men that 
use these terms most, and especially those that lose 
no opportunity to proclaim themselves gentlemen, 
belong to that class of men that cock their hats on 
one side of their heads, and often wear them when 
and where gentlemen would remove them ; that 



CON VERSA TION. 



149 



pride themselves on their familiarity with the latest 
slang ; that proclaim their independence by show- 
ing the least possible consideration for others ; that 
laugh long and loud at their own wit ; that wear a 
profusion of cheap jewelry, use bad grammar, and 
interlard their talk with big oaths." 

" Socially, the term gentle??ian," says the London 
periodical, All the Year Round, " has become 
almost vulgar. It is certainly less employed by 
gentlemen than by inferior persons. The one 
speaks of ' a man I know, ' the other of ' a gentle- 
man I know. ' Again, as regards the term lady. 
It is quite in accordance with the usages of society 
to speak of your acquaintance the duchess as 1 a 
very nice person. ' People who say ' a very nice 
lady ' are not generally of a social class that has 
much to do with duchesses." 

' 6 The terms lady and genilenian," says the Lon- 
don Queen, " become in themselves vulgar when 
misapplied, and the improper application of the 
wrong term at the wrong time makes all the differ- 
ence in the world to ears polite." 

" Bashfulness, " says Bacon, " is a great hin- 
drance to a man both of uttering his conceit and 



150 



THE MENTOR. 



understanding what is propounded unto him ; 
wherefore it is good to press himself forward with 
discretion both in speech and company of the better 
sort. 7 ' 

4 * Shyness, ' ' says a modern writer, ' ' cramps every 
motion, clogs every word. The only way to over- 
come the fault is to mix constantly in society, and 
the habitual intercourse with others will give you 
the ease of manner that shyness destroys." 

" In all kinds of speech, " says Bacon, " either 
pleasant, grave, severe, or ordinary, it is convenient 
to speak rather slowly than hastily ; because hasty 
speech confounds the memory, and oftentimes 
drives a man either to a nonplus or unseemly 
stammering upon what should follow ; whereas a 
slow speech confirmeth the memory, addeth a con- 
ceit of wisdom to the hearers, besides a seemliness 
of speech and countenance." 

The man of real dignity, of real intellectual 
strength, never hesitates to establish a sort of 
friendly relation with his servants and 'subordi- 
nates. If you see a man going about with a 
" ramrod down his back, " looking over the heads 
of his servants and subordinates, you may be sure 



CONVERSATION. 



151 



that he knows just enough to know that his dignity 
is a nurseling and needs his constant attention. 

Be not in haste to take offence ; be sure first 
that an indignity is intended. He that calls you 
hard names, if they are unmerited, is beneath your 
resentment ; if merited, you have no right to com- 
plain. In either case, nine times in ten, the better 
course is to say little and go your way. A well- 
bred man seldom if ever feels justified in indulging 
in recrimination. Altercations are as much to be 
avoided as personal encounters. 

It often requires more courage to avoid a quarrel 
than to engage in one, and then the courage that 
keeps one out of a quarrel is the courage of the 
philosopher, while the courage that leads one into 
a quarrel is the courage of the bully. He that 
boasts of his prowess is a, blackguard. 

Steer wide of the stupid habit many persons get 
into of repeating questions that are asked them, and 
of asking others to repeat what they have said. 
If you take the trouble to observe, you will find 
your experience with these people to be something 
like this : " Will this street take me into Chatham 
Square?" "Chatham Square, did you say?" 



152 



THE MENTOR. 



You go into a men's furnishing store and ask : 
" Will you show me some sixteen-inch collars ?" 
"Sixteen inch, did you say?" You ask an ac- 
quaintance: " How long have you been in New 
York ?" " How long have I been in New York, 
did you say?'' or, "Which do you think the 
prettier of the two?' 7 "Which do I think the 
prettier?" or, "I think it will be warmer to-mor- 
row/' " What did you say?" or, " Patti was ill 
and did not sing last evening." " W T hat do you 
say, Patti didn't sing V " When do you expect to 
break yourself of the habit of asking me to repeat 
everything I say, or of repeating everything over 
after me ?" " When do I expect to break myself 
of the habit ?" If you think you have been under- 
stood, all you have to do, as a rule, is to keep 
silent and look your interlocutor full in the face for 
a moment to be made sure of it. 

There is a kind of comparatively harmless gossip 
that some men indulge in, that makes them appear 
very diminutive in the eyes of men of the world. 
I refer to the habit some men have of making 
what may chance to come to their knowledge of 
other people's affairs and movements the subject of 



CONFER SA TION. 



153 



conversation. Though there is generally nothing 
malicious in the gabble of these busybodies, it 
sometimes causes a deal of unpleasantness. Men 
whose ambition it is to appear knowing, know, if 
they did but know it, far less than their discreet- 
mouthed neighbors. 

All writers on the amenities of conversation agree 
that the discussion of politics and religion should 
be excluded from general society, for the reason 
that such discussions are very liable to end un- 
pleasantly. Yet this would never be the case, if we 
were sufficiently philosophic to reflect that we are 
all what circumstances have made us, and that we, 
with only now and then an exception, should be of 
the same opinions as our neighbors had we been 
reared under like influences. When we censure 
another for his way of thinking, if we did but know 
it, we find fault not with him, but with the sur- 
roundings amid which he has grown up. There 
are but very few men in the world that have opinions 
that are really their own, i.e., that are the product 
of their own, independent judgment. Most men 
simply echo the opinions that have chanced to fall 
to their lot, and had other opinions chanced to fall 



154 



THE MENTOR. 



to their lot— though directly opposed to those they 
now entertain — they would, in like manner, have 
echoed them — have fought for them, if occasion 
offered. But as there are very few of us that are 
not swayed by prejudice rather than guided by 
philosophy, politics and religion are, and are pretty 
sure to remain, dangerous topics to introduce into 
the social circle, and that, too, for the simple rea- 
son, as already intimated, that they are subjects 
upon which people generally feel so deeply that 
they cannot discuss them calmly, courteously, and 
rationally. 

We sometimes meet with persons that lose no op- 
portunity to say sharp things — things that wound. 
They are occasionally persons of some wit, but they 
are never persons of any wisdom, or they would not 
do what is sure to make them many enemies. 
Good manners without kindliness is impossible. 

Persons of the best fashion avoid expressing 
themselves in the extravagant They leave inflation 
to their inferiors, with many of whom nothing short 
of the superlative will suffice. From them we hear 
such expressions as "awfully nice," "beastly 
ugly," "horridly stuck up, " ' ' frightfully cold/' 



CONVERSATION. 



155 



"simply magnificent," and "just divine/' while 
persons of better culture, to express the same 
thoughts, content themselves with " very pretty," 
"very plain/' "rather haughty," "very cold," 
" excellent," and the like. Intemperance in the 
use of language, like intemperance in everything 
else, is vulgar. 



CALLS AND CARDS. 



Custom is a law 
As high as heaven, as wide as seas or land. 

— Lansdowne. 

An English authority tells us that the chief things 
to be considered in making calls are the occasions 
and the hours. Between friends there is little need 
of ceremony in the matter, as a friendly visit may 
be made at almost any time and on almost any oc- 
casion. 

x\ man that can command his time may make 
ceremonious calls, in most of the large cities, at any 
hour between two and five in the afternoon, and the 
man that has not the leisure to call during the after- 
noon may make calls in the evening after half past 
eight. The careless, ignorant, or over-eager some- 
times call earlier, for fear the lady may be out; but 
this is not considered good usage. 



CALLS AND CARDS. 157 



Calls may be divided into three classes : 

1. Visits of ceremony. 

2. Visits of congratulation or sympathy. 

3. General calls. 

Ceremonious calls are those made to present 
letters of introduction, or after dinners, parties, or 
balls. 

In calling to present a letter of introduction, the 
caller does not go in, but simply leaves the letter, 
with his card and address. 

In returning a call made with a letter of intro- 
duction, the caller must go in, if the person on 
whom he calls is at home. - 

If your letter of introduction is for a special pur- 
pose — which purpose should be mentioned in the 
letter — you will send it in with your card, and ask 
for an interview. 

In giving letters of introduction, you take a 
great responsibility. You should, therefore, give 
them only to persons that have your entire confi- 
dence and for whom you are willing to be responsi- 
ble. They should be left open, in order that their 
bearers may acquaint themselves with their con- 
tents. 



158 



THE MENTOR. 



A call should be made within a week after 
balls, dancing parties, or dinners to which you 
have been invited, whether you accepted or not. 
Such calls, some one has said, should resemble 
wit in their brevity, not exceeding the length of 
a reasonable sermon — say twenty or thirty minutes 
at the most. 

If during your call another visitor should arrive, 
you should not appear to shun him, but should 
wait two or three minutes, and join in the conversa- 
tion before you take leave. Persons that out-sit 
two or three callers, unless there is some special 
reason for their doing so, are in danger of being 
called bores, who are persons that have not sufficient 
tact to know when they should take leave. 

It is often no easy matter either to know when 
to take leave or how to take leave srracefullv. As 
a rule, avoid all such observations as, " Well, I 
think it is time for me to be going," and do not 
look at your watch. The best way to make one's 
exit, whether the conversation has begun to flag or 
not, is to say something effective, as Pelham was 
wont to do, and withdraw immediately thereafter. 
Above all, do not prolong your leave-taking. When 



CALLS AND CARDS. 



159 



you start to go, go. Interminable leave-takers are 
very tiresome. 

A man should never offer to shake hands with 
persons on whom he calls. If, however, those on 
whom a man calls offer him their hands when he 
arrives, he may offer them his hand when he takes 
leave ; but this is by no means necessary. 

A man, in making calls, should always carry his 
hat into the drawing-room. He may carry his 
cane also into the drawing-room, if he chooses to 
do so, but there is no special reason why he should. 
The carrying of one's hat is sufficient intimation 
that one has not come to remain. Authorities 
differ with regard to what a man shall do with his 
hat when he gets into the drawing-room. One 
English authority says : ' ' The hat should never be 
laid on a table, pianoforte, or any article of furni- 
ture, but must be held properly in the hand. If 
you are compelled to lay it aside, put it on the 
floor/' Another English authority says : "A 
gentleman holds his hat until he has seen the mis- 
tress of the house and shaken hands with her. He 
would then either place it on a chair or table near 

at hand, or hold it in his hand until he took leave. " 
n 



160 



THE MENTOR. 



Men of sense and a little independence will do as 
they please. What objection can there be to a 
man's putting his hat on a chair, a table, or a 
piano ? In making short calls, a man should hold 
his hat, unless he should want to use both hands 
for some other purpose. 

But whether it is permissible or not for a man to 
put his hat on some article of furniture, it is certain 
that if he carries hat and cane into the drawing- 
room, he should put them down somewhere, or hold 
them still, and not betray his gaucherie by flourish- 
ing the one or twirling the other. 

A man should never say, " Excuse my glove," 
nor, if he is neatly gloved, should he remove his 
glove to shake hands with any one. 

Never take a seat on a sofa, unless invited to do 
so ; nor in an arm-chair, uninvited, unless there 
are several in the room unoccupied ; nor is it per- 
missible to leave your chair to get nearer the fire. 

A gentleman should, generally, rise when a lady 
enters the drawing-room, and remain standing till 
she is seated ; and, though a stranger, he should 
place a chair for her, if there is not one convenient ; 
but not his own, if there is another at hand. 



CALLS AND CARDS. 



161 



A gentleman should also generally rise if a lady 
leaves the drawing-room, and remain standing until 
she has passed out. 

Never take any one to call on ladies of your ac- 
quaintance before asking their permission to do so. 

When going to spend the evening with a friend 
that you visit often, »it is quite proper that you 
should leave your hat in the hall. 

Never take a dog into a drawing-room when you 
make a call. For many reasons a visitor has no 
right to inflict the society of his dog on his ac- 
quaintance. 

A gentleman that is invited by a lady to call 
cannot, without showing a want of courtesy, neglect 
to pay her a call within a week or ten days. 

Visits of condolence are paid within a week, or 
ten days at most, after the event that occasions 
them. Personal visits of this kind are made only 
by relatives and intimate friends, who should be 
careful to make the conversation as little painful as 
possible. 

In paying visits of congratulation, you should 
always go in, and be hearty in your congratulations. 
" There are many great men," says " The Man 



162 



THE MENTOR. 



in the Club-Window," "who go unrewarded for 
the services they render humanity. Nay, even their 
names are lost, while we daily bless their inventions. 
One of these is he, if it was not a woman, who in- 
troduced the use of visiting-cards. In days of yore 
a slate or a book was kept, and you wrote your 
name on it. But then that could be done only 
when your acquaintance was ■ not at home/ To 
the French is due the practice of making the 
delivery of a card serve the purpose of the appear- 
ance of the person, and with those who may have a 
large acquaintance this custom is becoming very 
common in large towns." 

The fashion of cards as to size, material, style of 
engraving, and the mode of using them, is very 
variable. Visiting-cards, at present, should be 
small, and printed on fine, thin bnstol-board, in 
Italian script without any flourishes. The address 
in the right-hand corner, and if a member of a club, 
the name of the club in the left-hand corner. 
Glazed cards, fac-similes and ornamental styles of 
letters are entirely out of fashion. 

The black borders of mourning cards vary in 
width according to circumstances, the maximum 



CALLS AND CARDS. 



163 



width being three eighths of an inch, which is 
denominated " extra extra wide/' 

Nearly all New York men have " Mr." on then 
cards, and yet in England, where the custom 
originated, according to two authorities before me, 
the practice is going out of fashion. One of them 
says : " Some gentlemen and unmarried ladies have 
adopted the continental custom of omitting the 
* Mr.' and 4 Miss' upon their cards ; as 

Alfred John Majoribanks ; 

or 

Lucy Car ring ion. 

And the fashion is a good one. " 

Another English writer says : " To have 
1 Francis Smith ' printed on the card without the 
prefix ' Mr/ would be a glaring solecism, and in 
the worst possible taste." The writers are both 
" members of the aristocracy." 

Military or professional titles take the place of 
the " Mr.," as, " Captain John Smith, " " Colonel 
John Smith," "Rev. John Smith," " Dr. John 
Smith,'' etc. 

" Visiting-cards can under no circumstances be sent 
by post ; to do so would betray the greatest igno- 



164 



THE MENTOR. 



ranee of what is done in society. Cards must be 
left in person/' says an English writer. 

* 6 It is for this ceremonious card-leaving that it is 
now proposed to send the cards by post, which 
sensible people in England are advocating, as well 
as sensible people here,' 1 says an American writer. 

The turning-down of the corner or the end of a 
card signifies that the owner left it in person. It is 
better usage, because more recent, to turn the end. 
In countries where great importance is attached to 
such little things, even those that send their cards 
by servants turn them across one end — usually the 
right end — as if they had left them in person. 

Cards left on New Year's Day, or on any other 
reception day, simply for the purpose of refresh- 
ing the memory of the hostess, are never turned 
down. 

Usage in these matters varies not only in different 
countries, but often in the different large cities of 
the same country. Persons that are not sure that 
they are thoroughly informed should inquire. 

On reception days the caller must go in ; the 
simple leaving of his card on those days does not 
suffice. 



CALLS A. YD CARDS. 



165 



P. P. C. cards are the only cards that it is univer- 
sally considered permissible to send by post. 

To return a call, made in person, with cards in- 
closed in an envelope is an intimation that the send- 
er is not desirous to continue the acquaintance. 

"As regards leaving cards upon new acquaint- 
ances, " says the English authority already quoted, 
" a gentleman may not leave a card upon a married 
lady, or the mistress of a house, to whom he has 
been introduced, however gracious or agreeable she 
may have been, unless she expressly asks him to 
call, or gives him to understand in an unmistakable 
manner that his doing so would be agreeable to 
her. This rule holds good, whether the introduc- 
tion has taken place at a dinner-party, at a ball, at 
an ' at home, ' at a country gathering, or elsewhere ; 
he would not be authorized in leaving his card on 
her on such slight acquaintanceship ; as, if she 
desired his further acquaintance, she would make 
some polite allusion to his calling at her house, 
such as, ' I hope we shall see you when we are in 
town this season,' or, ' I am always at home at 
five o'clock, if you like to come to see us.' If a 
woman of the world she would use some such 



166 THE MENTOR. 

formula, but would not use a direct one, in which 
case he would leave his card on her as soon after- 
ward as convenient, and he would also leave a card 
for the master of the house, the lady's husband or 
father, as the case might be, even if he had not 
made his acquaintance when making that of the 
lady. 

14 A gentleman may not under any circumstances 
leave his card on a young lady to whom he has 
been introduced, unless her mother, chaperone, or 
the lady under whose care she is for the time, gives 
him the opportunity of furthering the acquaint- 
ance in the manner we have just indicated. The 
young lady must not take the initiative herself, but 
must leave it to her mother or chaperone to do so. 
It would be considered ' ill-bred ' were a gentle- 
man to ask, ' if he might have the pleasure of call- 
ing/ etc." 

But in America, according to the author of 
" Social Etiquette of New York, " a young man 
may proceed quite differently. She says : " After a 
gentleman has been introduced to a lady, he may 
be in doubt whether the acquaintance will prove 
agreeable to her. He may be too delicate to give 



CALLS AND CARDS. 



167 



her the unpleasantness of refusing him permission 
to call on her, should he beg such an honor. 
Therefore, if he covet her acquaintance, he leaves 
his card at her residence, and her mother or chap- 
erone will send an invitation to him to visit the 
family, or, perhaps, to be present at an entertain- 
ment, after which it is his duty to call and pay his 
respects. If the list of acquaintance be already too 
extensive, no notice need be taken of the card, and 
he will wait for a recognition from the ladies of the 
household when they meet again. If the acquaint- 
ance be really desirable, a prompt acknowledgment; 
of his desire to become acquainted is admitted in 
some refined and acceptable form. 

" A gentleman," says the same writer, " will 
always promptly accept or decline an invitation to 
anything. It was once an unsettled question 
whether or not receptions, kettledrums, and the like 
gatherings, required the formality of a reply. That 
vague doubt is terminated. Every invitation should 
be answered, and then there can be no misunder- 
standing. ' ' 

Gentlemen, in making formal calls, ask if " the 
ladies are at home." If they are not, some men 



168 



THE MENTOR. 



leave a card for each, while others leave one card 
only, which, it would seem, should suffice. 

If a gentleman calls on a young lady that is the 
guest of a lady he does not know, he will, neverthe- 
less, ask to see her hostess. 

If a gentleman receives an invitation from a new 
acquaintance, he should leave his card on host and 
hostess the day after the entertainment, whether he 
was present or not. 

Rules with regard to card -leaving have little or 
no significance among intimate friends. 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



Manners are what vex or soothe, corrupt or purify, 
exalt or debase, barbarize or refine us, by a constant, 
steady, uniform, insensible operation, like that of the 
air we breathe in. — Burke. 

Desire and fear are the two great springs of 
human effort. Every fear supposes an evil ; every 
desire a good. What are the real evils and the real 
goods? What are the means by which these may 
be obtained and those avoided ? This research is 
the principal object of philosophy, which, without 
excluding any truth, has man for its study and wis- 
dom for its object, and may be called the " Art of 
Living." The other arts have but a momentary 
utility ; the utility of this one is constant. It is of 
every country, of every age, of every condition. 
There is not a moment of our lives when it may not 
serve as a guide by pointing to the duties we should 
perform, the pleasures we may taste, the dangers we 
should shun. 



170 . THE MENTOR. 



Anger is the delirium of offended pride. It is 
rarely useful, and one of these brief paroxysms of 
folly may embitter one's whole life. He that con- 
tends for his lights without losing his temper is not 
only more dignified, but is also more effective than 
he that loses it. To get angry with an inferior is 
degrading ; with an equal, dangerous ; with a su- 
perior, ridiculous, while toward all there is danger 
of being unjust. Few things are more impressive 
than to see calmness opposed to violence, refine- 
ment to vulgarity, or decorum to ruffianism. 

" The late Douglass Jerrold likened civility to an 
air-cushion — possessing no tangible substance, yet 
serving to ease the jolts we encounter in our jour- 
neying through life. To say that a person is civil 
does not imply that he is agreeable, yet civility is 
the next step to being agreeable. Some persons 
pride themselves on being brusque or boorish, and 
it is well to let such have a wide berth in which to 
exercise their peculiarities. While wonders may be 
accomplished in being civil and agreeable, nothing 
can be gained by incivility. It is the manners that 
make the man or the woman. The presence of an 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



171 



agreeable person is like a ray of sunshine that 
warms and halos everything on which it falls, while 
a disagreeable fellow will chill the pleasantest com- 
pany ever assembled ; and it is one of those mys- 
teries that can never be solved why they are per- 
mitted to flourish and have their venomous exist- 
ence, unless they are to be considered as checks to 
prevent us from a surfeit of happiness in this 
world." 

Intellectual is more frequent than physical 
short-sightedness, and nothing is more frequent than 
for the important and the true to escape the vision of 
the vulgar. It is not a Socrates and his wisdom 
that are honored with a great following, but a Ma- 
homet and his ignorance that establish a sect that 
numbers an eighth of the population of the globe. 
It is not the laws of the profound and magnanimous 
Lycurgus that have come down to us, but those of 
the pedant Theodosius and the cruel Justinian. If 
a truth comes down to us from heaven, it does 
wisely to first appear in the habiliments of folly in 
order to guard against being at first taken for an 
error. 



172 



THE MENTOR. 



" Always suspect a man that affects great softness 
of manner, an unruffled evenness of temper, and 
an enunciation studied, low, and deliberate. These 
things are all unnatural, and bespeak a degree of 
mental discipline into which he that has no pur- 
poses of craft or design to answer cannot submit to 
drill himself. The most successful knaves are 
usually of this description, as smooth as razors 
dipped in oil and as sharp. They affect the inno- 
cence of the dove, which they have not, in order to 
hide the cunning of the serpent, which they have. ' ' 

To the vulgar, the most sublime truths are only 
prejudices because they accept them as they accept 
error — without examination. What is more humil- 
iating to contemplate than the universality of opinion 
and of faith in the same community ! We find a 
whole people, with few exceptions, of one way of 
thinking, and a little farther on, another people 
with directly opposite ideas, while each are equally 
convinced of the correctness of their views. There 
is not a ridiculous custom, an absurd opinion, or 
an inhuman atrocity that, in one century or an- 
other, has not had the sanction of the law and the 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



173 



approbation of the public. If it is the custom to 
worship certain animals or plants, as among the 
ancient Egyptians, for example — among whom, 
however, this worship was only symbolic — the 
whole nation prostrate themselves before them, and 
pronounce those that differ from them heathen dogs 
or impious barbarians. This clearly demonstrates 
that he that follows the dictates of conscience— a 
thing always of cultivation — may follow one of the 
worst of guides. When among the Greeks and the 
Carthaginians, and among nearly all the people of 
the North, they sacrificed human victims to the 
gods Orus, Agrolos, Kronos, Molock, Thor and 
Woden ; when their altars ran with the blood of 
innocence, a mother sacrificing her son, a son his 
father ; or when, in nearer times, one neighbor 
butchered another, one brother another, it was the 
dictates of conscience that they followed. But we 
need not go to history for evidence of the insuffi- 
ciency of conscience as a guide ; we have only to 
look about us. Truth and justice are always the 
same, and are always within the reach of reason, 
while conscience varies to infinity. It is one in 
Vienna and another in Constantinople, one in New 



THE ME X TOR. 



York and another in the city of Mexico, one at 
Dover and another across the Channel at Calais. 

The highest intelligence examines before it accepts, and 
rejects all that is opposed to reason. 

" Never show that you feel a slight. This is 
worldly wise as well as Christian, for no one but a 
mean person will put a slight on another, and such 
a person always profoundly respects the one who is 
unconscious of his feeble spite. Never resent pub- 
licly a lack of courtesy • it is in the worst taste. 
What you do privately about dropping such an ac- 
quaintance must be left to yourself. To a person 
of a noble mind the contests of society must ever 
seem poor and frivolous as they think of these nar- 
row enmities and low political manoeuvres, but we 
know that they exist, and that we must meet them. 
Temper, detraction and small spite are as vulgar 
on a Turkey carpet and in a palace as they are in a 
tenement house ; nay, worse, for the educated con- 
testants know better. Never show a factious or 
peremptory irritability in small things. Be patient 
if a friend keeps you waiting. Bear, as long as 
you can, heat or a draught rather than make others 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



175 



uncomfortable. Do not be fussy about your sup- 
posed rights ; yield a disputed point of precedence. 
All society has to be made up of these concessions ; 
they are your unnumbered friends in the long run. 
We are not always wrong when we quarrel ; but if 
we meet our deadliest foe at a friend's house we are 
bound to treat him with perfect civility. That is 
neutral ground. Burke said that manners were 
more important than laws." 

Modesty is an admirable thing for a man to have, 
in appearance ; a questionable thing for him to 
have, in fact. That that most tends to make men 
modest is the recollection of the stupid things they 
have done and said. 

"As learning and honor," says Chesterfield, 
" are necessary to gain you the esteem and admira- 
tion of mankind, so politeness and good breeding 
are necessary to make you welcome in society. 
Great talents are above the generality of the world, 
who neither possess them themselves nor judge of 
them rightly in others ; but all are judges of civility 

•ind an obliging manner. ' ' 
12 



176 



THE MENTOR. 



" Good sense must, in many cases, determine 
good breeding ; because the same thing that would 
be civil at one time and to one person, may be 
quite otherwise at another time and to another per- 
son. " 

There is no surer sign of vulgarity than the dis- 
courteous treatment of those below us in the social 
scale. Let your manner toward servants be gentle 
and courteous, but not unduly familiar. Ask 
rather than command. It is better to inspire love 
than fear. The master that is beloved is better 
served than the master that is feared. The world 
over, the members of the old aristocracy are more 
popular — because they are more affable — with the 
lower orders, than are the newly rich. 

Avoid eccentricities. They are sure indications 
of weakness, of vanity, and of a badly balanced 
brain. Do as other people do, dress as other peo- 
ple dress, and in all things conform to established 
usages. Yet while we bear in mind that whatever 
is ouire 'is vulgar, we should also bear in mind that 
blind obedience to the mandates of fashion is repul- 
sive. 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



177 



We occasionally meet with persons that pride 
themselves on their candor and their frankness. 
Upon a nearer acquaintance we generally discover 
that the candor of which they boast is but an exhi- 
bition of their egotism, and that their frankness is 
what considerate people call rudeness. 

" How often a bitter speech that has caused keen 
pain to the hearer has been followed by such words 
as these, as if in justification of the unkindness 
shown : * I'm a plain, blunt person, and I have to 
speak out just what I think. People must take me 
as the Lord made me.' Anything meaner than 
such an attempt to throw the responsibility for one's 
ugliness of temper off on the Lord it would be hard 
to imagine. Frankness of speech is one thing, 
but harshness is a very different thing. The 
Lord never endowed any man with such a dis- 
position or put him in such circumstances that he 
was obliged to make stinging, cruel remarks. 
Some men have more difficulty than others in being 
sweet-tempered and kindly spoken, but when one 
fails it is his own fault. The very attempt to jus- 
tify harshness in such words as we have quoted is 



178 



THE MENTOR. 



evidence of an uncomfortable consciousness of 
guilt, and proves that the speaker does not believe 
what he says. Let the repulsiveness of such utter- 
ances when we hear them teach us how they seem 
to others when we make them. ' ' 

As it is not possible always to avoid being either 
too ceremonious or too familiar, our greatest care 
should be not to err on the side of familiarity, 
which, the old proverb truthfully says, breeds con- 
tempt. 

He that domineers over and insults those below 
him is sure to cringe and truckle to those above him. 

In most things it is well to follow the fashion, 
but in all things it is ill to follow the fashion with- 
out discretion. The man that allows other people 
to think for him in small things is incapable of 
thinking for himself in great ones, 

" All ceremonies," says Chesterfield, "are in 
themselves very silly things ; yet a man of the 
world must know them. They are the outworks 
of manners, which would too often be broken in 
upon if it were not for that defence that keeps the 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



179 



enemy at a proper distance. For that reason I 
always treat fools and coxcombs with great cere- 
mony, true good breeding not being a sufficient 
barrier against them." 

The hearths of tyrannical, bullying fathers and 
of scolding, complaining mothers are always the 
scenes of continual bickerings. There, there is 
never union but ever disunion. If, in such fami- 
lies, there exists any affection among their mem- 
bers, there is no show of it. 

If you are a father, be the companion of your 
children, not their drill-master. If their love for 
you does not suffice to induce them to do your 
bidding, the fault is yours, not theirs. Your 
wishes should be their law, and they will be, if it 
has been your habit to affectionately appeal to their 
reason, to their sense of right — in short, to their 
nobler instincts. 

Not only right thinking men, but wrong think- 
ing men that are sensible, are prompt in the keep- 
ing of their engagements, whether of business or of 
pleasure. 



180 



THE MENTOR. 



Be slow to make promises, but having made a 
promise do your uttermost to keep your svord. 
Every time another breaks his word with you, re- 
solve anew never to fail to keep yours. Bad exam- 
ples tend either to demoralize or to elevate. They 
elevate those in whom the good naturally predomi- 
nates. 

Men of sense are often looked upon as being 
conceited for no other reason than that the fools 
know they look upon them as being so many 
donkeys. 

There are many ignoble, foolish, unbred men in 
the world whose policy is so shortsighted that they 
continually bow to place rather than to worth. 
They forget that he that is up to-day may be down 
to-morrow, and that no man is so insignificant that 
he is powerless to do them good or harm. Such 
men have not even the politeness of enlightened 
selfishness. 

Little men in authority, as a rule, are on the 
look-out for small occasions on which to show their 
importance, while in matters of any magnitude 
they readily yield the lead to others. 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



181 



The man of sense never does anything simply for 
flourish, to show off, for " splurge." He never 
makes presents to any one that he cannot abun- 
dantly afford to make. He never goes to any ex- 
pense that his means do not justify. He assumes 
that those with whom he associates, that he enter- 
tains, that he extends civilities to are sensible peo- 
ple, and he remembers that sensible people always 
look upon every kind of ostentation as vulgar. 

A recent writer on the amenities of social inter- 
course says : " Don't say ' Miss Susan ' or * Miss 
Mary.' This strictly is permissible with servants 
only. Address young ladies by their surname, with 
prefix of Miss, except when in a family of sisters a 
distinction must be made, and then give the name 
in full." On this injunction, the breezy little St. 
Louis Spectator comments, with as much sense as 
humor, essentially, thus : "I think that such a rule 
of etiquette as this is rather Utopian when one con- 
siders the impossibility of its practical enforcement. 
Suppose, for instance, that Mr. Blank is playing 
whist with three sisters of the Turtletack family, 
when suddenly Miss Sempronia Turtletack asks : 



182 



THE MENTOR. 



" ' What led the last time round ? ' 
' ' ' Clubs, Miss Sempronia Turtletack, 9 answers 
Mr. Blank. 

' ' ' Are you sure ? ' 

" ' Quite sure. I led a small club, Miss Theo- 
dosia Turtletack followed suit with a small card, 
Miss Elvira Turtletack played her king, and you, 
Miss Sempronia Turtletack, trumped/ " 

It is hardly possible that any such custom as this 
exists in any circle of society in any country ; but 
if such a custom does anvwhere exist, it is in a 
circle so starched and stayed that it would be diffi- 
cult for an every-day mortal to breathe in it, and 
so stilted and stupid that no sensible mortal would 
want to breathe in it. 

I go out of my way to give the following extract 
wider publicity, but there is so much in it that 
many persons would do well to take to heart, that 
I cannot resist the temptation to reprint it. I find 
it in Our Continent, and it is from the facile pen of 
Mrs. Louise Chandler Moulton. 

' ' Good breeding, like charity, should begin at 
home. The days are past when children used to 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



183 



rise the moment their parents entered the room 
where they were and stand until they had re- 
ceived permission to sit. But the mistake is now 
made usually in the other direction of allowing to 
small boys and girls too much license to disturb 
the peace of the household. I think the best way 
to train children in courtesy would be to observe 
toward them a scrupulous politeness. I would go 
so far as to say that we should make it as much a 
point to listen to children without interrupting 
them and to answer them as sincerely and respect- 
fully as if they were grownup. And indeed many 
of their wise, quaint sayings are far better worth lis- 
tening to than the stereotyped commonplaces of 
most morning callers. Of course, to allow uninter- 
rupted chatter would be to surrender the repose of 
the household, but it is very easy, if children are 
themselves scrupulously respected, to teach them in 
turn scrupulously to respect the convenience of 
others, and to know when to talk and when to be 
silent. 

" If a child is brought up in the constant exercise 
of courtesy toward brothers and sisters and play- 
mates, as well as toward parents and uncles and 



184 



THE MENTOR. 



aunts, it will have little left to learn as it grows 
older. I know a bright and bewitching little girl 
who was well instructed in table etiquette, but who 
forgot her lessons sometimes, as even older people 
do now and then. The arrangement was made 
with her that for every solecism of this sort she was 
to pay a fine of five cents, while for every similar 
carelessness that she could discover in her elders 
she was to exact a fine of ten cents, their experi- 
ence of life being longer than hers. You may be 
sure that Mistress Bright Eyes watched the pro- 
ceedings of that table very carefully. No slightest 
disregard of the most conventional etiquette escaped 
her quick vision, and she was an inflexible creditor 
and a faithful debtor. It was the prettiest sight to 
see her, when conscious of some failure on her own 
part, go unhesitatingly to her money-box and pay 
cheerfully her little tribute to the outraged proprie- 
ties. 

" The best brought-up family of children I ever 
knew were educated on the principle of always 
commending them when it was possible to do so, 
and letting silence be the reproof of any wrong- 
doing that was not really serious. I have heard 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



185 



the children of this household, when their mother 
had failed to say any word of commendation after 
some social occasion, ask as anxiously as possible, 
' What was it, mamma ? I know something was 
wrong. Didn't we treat the other children well, or 
were we too noisy ? ' In that house reproof was 
never bestowed unsought — only commendation, of 
whatever it was possible to commend, was gratuitous. 

" I think this system would be as good for those 
grown-up children, the husbands and wives, as for 
those still in the nursery. I once asked the late 
Hepworth Dixon, with whom I happened to be 
talking on this subject, what he thought was the 
reason why some women held their husbands' 
hearts securely and forever, while others were but 
the brief tenants of a few months or years. ' What, ' 
I asked, ' is the quality in a woman that her hus- 
band loves longest ? ' 

" ' That she should be a pillow,' answered Mr. 
Dixon, and then meeting the inquiry in my eyes, 
he went on, ' Yes, that is what a man needs in his 
wife — something to rest his heart on. He has ex- 
citement and opposition enough in the world. He 
wants to feel that there is one place where he is 



186 



THE MENTOR. 



sure of sympathy, a place that will give him ease as 
a pillow gives it to a tired head. Do you think a 
man will be tempted to turn from the woman 
whose eyes are his flattering mirror — who heals 
where others wound ? ' 

' ' And surely he was right. We are grateful for 
even a too flattering faith in us, and if there is any 
good in us at all, we try to deserve this faith. But 
tenderness in the conjugal heart is much more 
common than grace in the conjugal manner. 
Since, however, next to that supreme good of 
being satisfied in one's own conscience is that sec- 
ond great good of being satisfied in one's own 
home, surely no details of manner that tend to 
such a result are too slight to be observed. I be- 
lieve in making as pretty a toilet to greet the re- 
turning husband as one put on to await the expect- 
ed sweetheart ; and, when the husband comes, he 
makes a mistake very fatal to his own interests if he 
fails to notice what he would have praised in other 
days. It is a trite saying that life is made up of 
trifles ; but surely the sum of all these domestic 
trifles amounts to the difference between happiness 
and unhappiness." 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



18? 



If you are the head of a family, be slow to assert 
your authority ; remember that about the most dis- 
gusting creature on earth is the domestic tyrant. 
As we start so we are likely to continue ; if a man 
starts as a domestic bully, as a domestic bully he is 
likely to continue to the end, making himself un- 
happy and those about him unhappy his life long. 
" Half of us find fault from habit ; but. some of 
us, we fear, do so from an inborn ugliness of dis- 
position/' 

The manner of others toward us is usually the 
reflex of our manner toward them. As men have 
howled into the wood so it has ever howled out. 

Beneath the habitually gentlemanly demeanor of 
many men — yes, very many — there lurks a spirit 
of bully ism that seems to avail itself of every pre- 
text to appear on the surface. Men that are thus 
afflicted are ever ready for an altercation, in order, 
it would seem, to show their familiarity with the 
ways and the peculiar phraseology of the braggart 
and brawler. Such men always say that they are 
gentlemen, and gentlemen always say that such 
men are blackguards. 



188 



THE M EX TOR. 



Forwardness, especially in the youthful, is some- 
thing to be carefully guarded against. The man, 
old or young, whose manner is forward and 
" loud M is never a welcome addition to a social 
circle. The forward and loud are generally as in- 

C J 

ane as they are noisy. It one observes them, one 
often finds that what they say is but an elaboration 
of thoughts already expressed by other members of 
the company. 

If forwardness is a thing to be avoided, diffidence 
is not less a thing that should be cured. Each is 
alike proof of a lack of breeding. Diffidence can 
be thoroughly cured only by acquiring the polite 
accomplishments, of those in whose society one 
feels uncomfortable. The boor, unless he is a 
downright blockhead, never feels at ease in the so- 
ciety of the cultured. 

Good manners go far toward supplying the want 
of good looks. They constitute the secret of that 
fascination that we often see exerted by persons 
that are not gifted with physical attractions. 

Maxims of Stephen Allen, Mayor of New York 
City from 1 8 2 1 to 1823 ; 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



189 



" Never be idle. 

" If your hands cannot be usefully employed, 
attend to the cultivation of your mind. 

" Always speak the truth. 

* ' Make few promises. 

" Live up to your engagements. 

" Keep your own secrets, if you have any. 

" When you speak to a person, look him in the 
face. 

" Good company and good conversation are the 
very sinews of virtue. 

" Good character * is above all things else. 

" Your character * cannot be essentially injured 
except by your own acts. 

" If any one speaks evil of you, let your life be 
so that no one will believe him. 

" Drink no kind of intoxicating liquors. 

" Ever live, misfortune excepted, within your 
income. 

* 5 When you retire to bed, think over what you 
have done during the day. 



* Good name— reputation — is probably what is meant 
here. Calumny may injure one's good name, but it can- 
not injure one's character. 



190 



THE MENTOR. 



" Make no haste to be rich. 
Small and steady gains give competency with 
tranquillity of mind. 

* ' Never play at any game of chance. 

* 4 Avoid temptation through fear that you may 
not withstand it. 

" Earn money before you spend it. 

' ' Never run into debt unless you see a way to 
get out. 

" Never borrow if you can possibly avoid 

it. 

' ' Do not marry until you are able to support a 
wife. 

" Never speak ill of any one. 
" Be just before you are generous. 
" Keep yourself innocent, if you would be happy. 
11 Save when you are young, to spend when you 
are old. 

4i Read over the above maxims at least once a 
week. ' ' 

If a man boasts that he could worst you in a 
set-to, answer that you think it very likely as you 
have no experience in fisticuffing ; that you have 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



191 



never struck any one and should hardly know how 
to go to work to do it. 

If a man threaten to do you bodily harm, ask 
him if he is in earnest. If he says he is, run. 
There is more glory in avoiding a melee by run- 
ning away than there is in remaining and coming 
off the victor. 

But — if the devil be on the side of the blackguard 
and he corners you, teach him, to the best of your 
ability, that you are not really a poltroon, though 
you are quite willing that bullyism should think 
you one. 

Mr. Sparks gives us a collection of directions 
that Washington called his " Rules of Civility and 
Decent Behavior in Company." They are as fol- 
lows ; 

" i. Every action in company ought to be with 
some sign of respect to those present. 

" 2. In the presence of others sing not to your- 
self with a humming voice, nor drum with your 
ringers or feet. 

"3. Speak not when others speak ; sit not when 

others stand, and walk not when others stop. 
13 



192 



THE M EX TOR. 



" 4. Turn not your back to others, especially in 
speaking ; jog not the table or desk on which an- 
other writes or reads ; lean not on any one. 

" 5. Be no flatterer, neither play with any one 
that delights not to be played with. 

" 6. Read no letters, books or papers in com- 
pany ; but when there is a necessity for doing it, 
ask leave. Come not near the books or writings of 
any one so as to read them unasked ; also look 
not nigh when another is writing a letter. 

" 7. Let your countenance be pleasant, but in 
serious matters somewhat grave. 

" 8. Show not yourself glad at the misfortune of 
another, though he be your enemy. 

9. They that are in dignity or in office have in 
all places precedency : but while they are young, 
they ought to respect those that are their equals in 
birth or other qualities, though they have no pub- 
lic charge. 

" 10. It is good manners to prefer those to 
^'hom we speak before ourselves, especially if they be 
above us, with whom in no sort we ought to begin. 

"n. Let your discourse with men of business 
be short and comprehensive. 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



193 



M 12. In visiting the sick do not presently play 
the physician if you be not knowing therein. 

" 13. In writing or speaking give to every per- 
son his due title according 10 his degree and the 
custom of the place. 

" 14. Strive not with your superiors in argu- 
ment, but always submit your judgment to others 
with modesty. 

"15. Undertake not to teach your equal in the 
art he himself possesses ; it savors of arrogancy. 

" 16. When a man does all he can, though it 
succeeds not well, blame not him that did it. 

"17. Being constrained to advise or to repre- 
hend any one, consider whether it should be done 
in public or in private, presently or at some other 
time, also in what terms to do it ; and in reproving 
show no signs of choler, but do it with sweetness 
and mildness. 

"18. Mock not nor jest at anything of impor- 
tance ; break no jests that are sharp or biting ; and 
if you deliver anything witty or pleasant, abstain 
from laughing thereat yourself. 

" 19. Wherein you reprove another be unblam- 
able yourself, for example is ever better than precept. 



194 



THE MENTOR. 



44 20. Use no reproachful language to any one, 
neither curses nor revilings. 

44 21. Be not hasty to believe flying reports to 
the disparagement of any one. 

" 22. In your apparel be modest, and endeavor 
to accommodate nature rather than to procure ad- 
miration. Keep to the fashion of your equals, 
such as are civil and orderly, with respect to time 
and place. 

4 ' 23. Play not the peacock, looking everywhere 
about you to see if you are well decked, if your 
shoes fit well, if your stockings sit neatly and 
clothes handsomely. 

44 24. Associate yourself with men of good qual- 
ity if you esteem your own reputation, for it is bet- 
ter to be alone than in bad company. 

44 25. Let your conversation, be without malice 
or envy, for it is a sign of a tractable and commend- 
able nature ; and in all causes of passion admit 
reason to govern. 

44 26. Be not immodest in urging your friend to 
discover a secret. 

44 27. Utter not base and frivolous things among 
grown and learned men, nor very difficult questions 



ODDS AND ENDS. 



195 



or subjects among the ignorant, nor things hard to 
be believed. 

" 28. Speak not of doleful things in time of 
mirth nor at the table ; speak not of melancholy 
things, as death and wounds ; and if others men- 
tion them, change, if you can, the discourse. Tell 
not your dreams but to your intimate friends. 

" 29. Break not a jest when none take pleasure 
in mirth. Laugh not aloud, nor at all without oc- 
casion. Deride no man's misfortunes, though 
there seem to be some cause. 

" 30. Speak not injurious words, neither in jest 
nor in earnest. Scoff at none, although they give 
occasion. 

"31. Be not forward, but friendly and courte- 
ous, the first to salute, hear and answer, and be not 
pensive when it is time to converse. 

"32. Detract not from others, but neither be 
excessive in commending. 

" 33. Go not thither where you know not 
whether you shall be welcome or not. Give not 
advice without being asked ; and when asked, do 
it briefly. 

" 34. If two contend together, take not the part 



196 



THE MENTOR. 



of either unconstrained, and be not obstinate in 
your opinion ; in things indifferent, be of the 
major side. 

4 4 35. Reprehend not the imperfections of others, 
for that belongs to masters, parents and superi- 
ors. 

" 36. Gaze not on the marks or blemishes of 
others, nor ask how they came. What you may 
speak in secret to your friend deliver not before 
others. 

" 37. Speak not in an unknown tongue in com- 
pany, but in your own language ; and that as those 
of quality do, and not as the vulgar. Sublime 
matters treat seriously. 

" 38. Think before you speak ; pronounce not 
imperfectly, nor bring out your words too hastily, 
but orderly and distinctly. 

" 39- When another speaks, be attentive your- 
self, and disturb not the audience. If any hesitate 
in his words, help him not, nor answer him till his 
speech be ended. 

" 40. Treat with men at fit times about busi- 
ness, and whisper not in the company of others. 

" 41. Make no comparisons ; and if any of the 



ODDS AND ENDS. 19? 

• 

company be commended for any brave act of vir- 
tue, commend not another for the same. 

" 42,. Be not apt to relate news if you know not 
the truth thereof. In discoursing of things you 
have heard, name not your author always. A 
secret discover not. 

" 43. Be not curious to know the affairs of oth- 
ers, neither approach to those that speak in private. 

"44. Undertake not what you cannot perform. 
Be careful to keep your promise. 

"45. When you deliver a matter, do it without 
passion and indiscretion, however mean the person 
may be you do it to. 

" 46. When your superiors talk to anybody, 
hear them ; neither speak nor laugh. 

4 '47. In disputes be not so desirous to over- 
come as to give liberty to each one to deliver his 
opinion, and submit to the judgment of the major 
part, especially if they are judges of the dispute. 

"48. Be not tedious in discourse, make not 
digressions, nor repeat often the same matter of 
discourse. 

" 49. Speak no evil of the absent, for it is un- 
just. 



198 



THE MENTOR. 



" 50. Be not angry at table, whatever happens ; 
and if you have reason to be so show it not ; put 
on a cheerful countenance, especially if there be 
strangers, for good humor makes one dish a feast. 

" 51. Set not yourself at the upper end of the 
table ; but if it be your due, or if the master of the 
house will have it so, contend not, lest you should 
trouble the company. 

" 52. When you speak of God or His attributes, 
let it be seriously, in reverence and honor, and 
obey your natural parents. 

" 53. Let your recreations be manful, not sinful. 

"54. Labor to keep alive in your breast that 
little spark of celestial fire called Conscience. " 



WHAT IS A GENTLEMAN? 



Education begins the gentleman ; but reading, good 
company, and reflection must finish him. — Locke. 

A man of polished and agreeable manners, as distin- 
guished from the vulgar and clownish. — Worcester. 

It would be hard to find two persons that fully 
agree with regard to what constitutes a gentleman. 
It is far easier to tell what a gentleman is not than 
what a gentleman is. 

For example, we all agree that the man is not a 
gentleman that is ignorant of those usages that, by 
common consent, regulate refined social intercourse; 
that does not, in his dress, conform, within certain 
limits at least, to the prevailing modes ; that is 
desirous to attract attention by affecting eccentrici- 
ties ; that bears himself as thcugh he thought him- 
self an object of special attention, i.e., is self-con- 
scious ; that has no thought for the comfort, the feel- 
ings, or the rights of others. In short, we all agree 



*200 



THE M EX TOR. 



that no man deserves to be called a gentleman that is 
not a man of education ; i.e., that is not sufficient- 
ly acquainted with books and with the usages of re- 
fined social intercourse to acquit himself creditably 
in the society of cultivated people. Not moral 
worth, nor learning, nor wealth, nor ail three com- 
bined, can. unaided, make a gentleman, for with all 
three a man might be coarse, unbred, unschooled 
in those things that no man can be ignorant- of 
and be welcome in the society of the refined. 

A modern English writer says that to formulate 
the definition of a s:entleman in negatives would be 
easy. ' ' As, for instance, ? ' he says, f J we may say 
that a true gentleman does not soil his conscience 
with falsehoods, does not waste his time on sensual 
indulgence, does not endeavor to make the worse 
appear the better reason, does not ridicule sacred 
things, does not wilfully give cause of offence to 
any. does not seek to overreach his neighbor, does 
not forget the respect due to womanhood, or old 
age, the feeble or the poor. But, to speak affirma- 
tively, " he continues li a gentleman is one whose 
aims are generous, whose trust is constant, whose 
word is never broken, whose honor is never stained, 



WLLA T IS A GENTLEMAN? 



301 



who is as gentle as brave, and as honest as wise, who 
wrongs no one by word or deed, and dignifies and 
embellishes life by nobility of thought, depth of 
feeling, and grace of manner." 

Thackeray wrote of the gentleman thus : " What 
is it to be a gentleman ? Is it not to be honest, to 
be gentle, to be generous, to be brave, to be wise, 
and, possessing all these qualities, to exercise them 
in the most graceful outward manner ? Ought not 
a gentleman to be a loyal son, a true husband, an 
honest father ? Ought not his life to be decent, 
his bills to be paid, his tastes to be high and 
elegant, his aims in life lofty and noble ? In a 
word, ought not the biography of the First Gentle- 
man in Europe to be of such a nature, that it 
might be read in young ladies'' schools with advan- 
tage, and studied with profit in the seminaries of 
young gentlemen ?" 

Another English writer says that the primary 
essentials oi what constitutes the true gentleman are 
Goodness, Gentleness and Unselfishness. " Upon 
these qualities," he says, 11 are based all those ob- 
servances and customs that we class together under 
the head of Good Manners. And these good 



202 



THE MENTOR, 



manners, be it remembered; do not consist merely 
in the art of bowing gracefully, of entering a room 
properly, of talking eloquently, of being familiar 
with the minor habits of good society. A man may 
have all this, know all this, and yet, if he is selfish, 
or ill-natured, or untruthful, fail of being a gentle- 
man. Good manners are far from being the evi- 
dence of good training only ; they are also the evi- 
dence of a refined nature. They are the fruit of 
good seed sown on good soil. As a just and ele- 
vated thought clearly and gracefully expressed is 
evidence of a well- trained mind, so every act, how- 
ever unimportant, and every gesture, however insig- 
nificant, is evidence of the kindly, considerate, 
modest, loyal nature of the true gentleman, or — of 
the reverse. ' ' 

In a story by Spielhagen, the distinguished Ger- 
man novelist, I find the following : 

"What do you call a gentleman?" asked the 
Duke. " Will you give me a definition of the 
word?" 

11 That is not so easy, my lord : indeed, I am 
not sure that it is possible to define the word satis- 
factorily," replied Lady De Vere. " By resorting 



WHAT IS A GENTLEMAN? 203 



to metaphors, however, I may perhaps be able to 
outline what we all feel, but are unable fully to 
describe. A gentleman is one in whom the vigor- 
ous and the delicate are happily united. The soft, 
the refined — all that comes from frequenting the 
society of women of culture, lies in the ' gentle ; ' 
the strong, the firm, the stern — all that comes from 
battling with men, lies in the ' man ; ' ' gentle ' 
implies the possession of all the social, ' man ' of 
all the civil, virtues ; ' man ' is the fiery wine, 
* gentle ' the tasteful goblet ; ' man ' is the sharp, 
correct drawing, ' gentle, ' the warm, soft coloring ; 
'gentle ' might be the Sybarite, who is disturbed by 
the falling of a rose-leaf, ' man ' is the Brutus, who 
as judge knows not even his own child. Pericles, 
the brave, magnanimous, amiable, refined Athe- 
nian, might be offered as an example of the true 
gentleman. ' ' 

In his essay in The Century, for October, 1883, 
on the "Characteristics of London," W. J. Still- 
man contrasts the English gentleman with the best 
American type as follows : 

\ 1 And it is in this very class that we find here 
and there that best type of humanity, as the world 



204 



THE MENTOR. 



knows it, the true English gentleman — a being 
whose exterior decorum may be counterfeited by 
his emulator, whose inmost gentleness and courtesy 
may be shadowed forth in peer or peasant — who 
loves his kind, and feels the common bond of divine 
birth, but whose most perfect union of noble 
demeanor and large-heartedness can only be found 
where the best type of mind has been permitted the 
largest and richest culture, and the completest free- 
dom of hereditary development in the most favor- 
able external circumstances. There are nobles and 
noblemen — men who seem to be conscious only 
that surrounding men are lower than they, and 
others whose illumination pervades every one near 
them and brings att up into the same world of light 
and sweetness. The prestige of nobility is founded 
on a true human instinct ; occasionally one finds 
an English nobleman who justifies its existence, 
and makes us snobs in spite of our democracy. 

" I could, I am certain, point to Americans who 
in every substantial trait of the gentleman will 
stand comparison with any aristocrat born — men in 
whom gentlehood has grown to hereditary ripeness ; 
the third and fourth generations of men who have 



WHA T IS A GENTLEMAN? 



205 



cultivated on American soil the virtues of hones- 
ty, morality, sincerity, courtesy, self-abnegation, 
humanity, benevolence ; men and women whose 
babyhood was cradled in those influences that 
make what we call 4 good breeding, ' and to whom 
the various vulgarities of our parvenu princes are as 
foreign as to the bluest-blooded heir of Normandy 
fortune ; and this is to me a more grateful and 
sympathetic type of humanity than that of its 
English congener. ' ' 

In the writings of a Gallic philosopher, of a 
former generation, that I lately chanced upon, I 
find the homme comme il faui — a man that is pretty 
nearly the counterpart of our gentleman — described 
essentially as follows : 

At the first glance we discover in him nothing 
that arrests the attention. He is simple, calm, 
ingenuous, manly rather than graceful, sedate 
rather than animated. His manner is neither re- 
served nor demonstrative, but attentive, respectful 
and guarded ; neither obsequious nor imperious, 
but calm and self-possessed. His politeness appears 
in acts rather than in protestations. Though he 
does not despise convention, he is not its slave ; he 



206 



THE MENTOR. 



does not allow himself to be hampered by the un- 
important, nor does he ever see a heinous offence 
in a trifling breach of established usage. 

His dress is an index of his character : simple, 
appropriate, harmonious. The man of the world 
pronounces it tasteful, the man of the people sees 
in it nothing that is unusual, and the man of sense 
recognizes in it a certain independence of the 
newest mode. 

Being of those that make haste discreetly, he 
studies the characters of his acquaintances before 
giving them his confidence. In conversation, he 
is neither impatient, restless, nor hurried, and 
though he is careful in selecting his words, he at- 
taches more importance to the matter of his dis- 
course than to the manner. Made to give the tone, 
he is content to receive it : he is wont to take as 
much pains to remain unnoticed as many another 
takes to make himself seen. 

If he appears in a circle w T here he is not known, 
the greater number see in him only a quiet, plain 
man that, despite his simplicity, however, has that 
about him to which they involuntarily yield their 
respect. The superficial, the presuming, and the 



WHAT IS A GENTLEMAN? 207 



malicious, though ignorant of the cause, are embar- 
rassed by his steady, searching glance ; the loyal and 
the unfortunate, on the contrary, are drawn toward 
him, feeling that in him they shall find a friend. 

He is guarded in speaking ill of others, a thing 
he never does but with right intentions — as, for ex- 
ample, to unmask a hypocrite, to punish the guilty, 
or to protect the weak. In speaking of his ene- 
mies, he never forgets to be just ; he is not of those 
that are blind to the virtues of even the most un- 
worthy, nor is he of those that are so ungenerous as 
to deny them. 

He is temperate in sustaining his opinions, 
and opposes only to be better informed, or to 
enliven the conversation ; and often he will sud- 
denly acknowledge his defeat, and confess with 
generous sincerity that the reasons of his opponent 
are better than his own. His victories are not less 
noble. His aim is to enlighten, not to humiliate, 
much less to offend. If he finds that he is opposed 
by presumption, obstinacy or ignorance, it is his 
habit to yield. f ' You may be right, " he will say ; 
" my way of seeing things is often erroneous, and 
this, quite likely, is the case now." 



208 



THE MENTOR. 



He avoids what is likely to create discord, 
seeks to promote kindly feeling among his fellows, 
and never pleads the faults of others in extenua- 
tion of his own. He is slow to take offence, op- 
poses incivility with urbanity, and passion with 
moderation. Wrong-doing he accounts a weak- 
ness, and he pleads weakness as its excuse ; the 
wrong-doer excites his pity rather than his hate. 

He possesses, in a high degree, the happy 
faculty of adapting himself to others, from whom 
he expects no more than they can give and from 
whom he obtains the best they have. " There are 
few, ' ' he says, 1 ' in whom, if we study them, we do 
not find some estimable qualities. If each has his 
weaknesses, so each has his virtues, which it is for 
us to discover.' ' Herein he excels. 

The same day may see him dogmatize with a 
pedant, reason with a sage, shine in a social circle, 
console the unfortunate, contend for the rights of 
humanity, and swear fidelity to the woman of his 
choice. He talks trade to the shopkeeper, politics 
to the ambitious, perspective to the painter, play- 
things to childhood, house affairs to the matron, and 
probity to all. All he says bears the impress of a 



WHA T IS A GENTLEMAN? 



209 



benign, humane philosophy that is now grave and 
now gay, as the time or the place may demand. 

In nothing does his prudence more appear than 
in his pleasures, for be their character what it may, 
they never see him overstep the limit prescribed by 
decency and self-respect. That pleasure that in- 
jures no one seems to him innocent, and that 
recreation that follows labor seems to him reason- 
able. 

Honesty with him has become a sort of in- 
stinct, which he exercises without reflection. The 
possibility that he could take an ignoble advantage, 
be wilfully unjust, or betray a trust, material or con- 
fidential, has never crossed his thought. 

In the management of his material concerns, 
he is a model. In large expenditures he is 
guarded, in order that he may be the better able to 
be liberal in small ones. He never is guilty of that 
parsimony in little things that disgraces more than 
display in great ones ever exalts. It is his special 
care to be discriminating in his bounties, moderate 
in his expenditures and punctual in his payments. 
He often denies himself the pleasures of luxury to 
indulge in those of benevolence. If misfortune 



210 



THE MENTOR. 



lessens his income, he is prompt to retrench ; he 
knows that the friends and acquaintances he will 
lose should not be accounted veritable losses. He 
is modest in prosperity, resigned in adversity, and 
dignified always. 

If he speaks of religion, he chooses carefully 
the time and the place. Whatever the prevailing 
belief in the community in which he lives, he con- 
siders it as forming a part of the laws, and he re- 
spects whatever contributes to stability and order. 
He attacks abuses only and seeks to destroy only 
what he can replace. He takes nothing on trust, 
but examines well before giving his assent ; and 
that religion finds most favor with him that attaches 
most importance to the doing of good deeds. The 
man that in his eyes is the most truly religious is 
he that does most for his fellows. He rejoices that 
beneficence is held in like esteem by all creeds, 
however widely may differ their dogmas, and that the 
various religions of the world repose on the belief in 
the existence of a Supreme Being that punishes vice 
and rewards virtue. He has the modesty to think 
and the honesty to confess that as so many millions 
are in error, he also may err. Nor has he the 



WHAT IS A GENTLEMAN? 



211 



presumption, like so many of his fellows, to set 
himself up as an infallible judge of others. But he 
pities those presuming motes that live but an in- 
stant, come they know not whence, and go they 
know not where, and yet would judge the whole by 
a part, and eternity by a span, conclude that all is 
but the product of chance, assert that what passes 
their reason is not reasonable, and deny the exist- 
ence of Him to whom millions of years are but a 
moment, and millions of miles but a point. 



THE END, 



D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



TflFTY PERFECT POEMS. A Collection of Fifty 
Acknowledged Masterpieces, by English and American 
Poets, selected and edited by Charles A. Dana and Ros- 
siter Johnson. With Seventy-two Illustrations. Printed 
on Japanese silk paper and mounted on the page. Large 
8vo. Bound in white silk, $10.00 ; morocco, $15.00. 

" ' Fifty Perfect Poems ' is certainly the most notable gift-book of the 
season." — Philadelphia. Press. 

"An unusually handsome presentation volume." — Chicago Tribune. 



L 



OVE SONGS OF ENGLISH POETS. 1500-1800. 
With Notes by Ralph H. Caine, and Frontispiece after 
Angelica Kauffman. i6mo. Cloth, gilt, $1.50. 

An admirable selection. 1 " — London Athenceum. 



T 



HE HOUSEHOLD BOOK OF POETRY. Edited 
by Charles A. Dana. Entirely new edition, from new 
type, with nearly two hundred additional poems. Steel En- 
gravings. Square 8vo. Cloth, gilt, $5.00 ; morocco antique, 
$10.00 ; tree calf, $12.00. 



N' 



N 



EW EDITION OF ENGLISH ODES. Selected 
by Edmund W. Gosse. With Frontispiece on India 
paper from a design by Hamo Thornycroft, A. R. A. 
Forty-two Head and Tail Pieces from Original Drawings 
by Louis Rhead. i6mo. Cloth, special design in gold, 
$1.50. Same in parchment, $1.75. 

EW EDITION OF ENGLISH LYRICS. Uni- 
form with " English Odes." With nearly Eighty Head and 
Tail Piecss from Original Drawings by Louis Rhead. 
i6mo. Cloth, special design in gold, $1.50. Same in parch- 
ment, $1.75. 

HTHE MUSIC SERIES. Consisting of Biographical 
and Anecdotical Sketches of the Great German Composers ; 
The Great Italian and French Composers ; Great Singers ; 
Great Violinists and Pianists. Five volumes, i8mo. Half 
white and red sides, $3.00 per set ; half morocco, $8.00. 



New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



STANDARD FRENCH FICTION. 

T)ICCIOLA. By X. B. Saintine. With 130 Illustrations 
by J. F. Gueldry. 8vo. Cloth, gilt, $1.50. 

" Saintine's Picciola/ the pathetic tale of the prisoner who raised a 
flower between the cracks of the Flagging of his dungeon, has parsed defi- 
nitely into the list of classic books. ... It has never been more beauti- 
fully housed than in this edition, with its fine typography, binding, and 
sympathetic illustrations." — Philadelphia Telegraph. 

" ' Picciola ' is an exquisite thing, and deserves such a setting as is 
here given it." — Hartford Courant. 

" The binding is both unique and tasteful, and the book commends 
itself strongly as one that should meet with general favor in the season 
of gift-making." — Boston Saturday Evening Gazette. 

AX ATTIC PHILOSOPHER TV PARIS; or, A 
Peep at the World from a Garret. Being the Journal of a 
Happy Man. By Emile Souvestre. With numerous 
Illustrations. 8vo. Cloth, gilt top, $1.50. 

" A suitable holiday gift for a friend who appreciates refined literature." 

— Boston Times. 

"It possesses a charming simplicity of style that makes it extremely 
fascinating, while the moral lesson it conveys commends itseif to every 
heart The work has now become a French classic. It is beautifully 
gotten up and illustrated, and is a delight to the eye as well as to the mind 
and heart." — Chicago Herald. 

" The influence of the book is wholly good. The volume is a par- 
ticularly handsome one." — Philadelphia Telegraph. 

"It is a classic. It has found an appropriate reliquary. Faithfully 
translated, charmingly illustrated by Jean Claude with full-page pictures, 
vignettes in the text, and head and tail pieces, printed in graceful type on 
handsome paper, and bound with an art worthy of Matthews, in half-cloth, 
ornamented on the cover, it is an exemplary book, fit to be ' a treasure for 
aye.' " — New York Times. 

n^HE STORY OF COLETTE. A new large-paper 
edition. With 36 Illustrations. Svo. Cloth, $1.50. 

There is not aline in this little idyl that is not as sweet and fresh as a 
June morning." — Bosto?i Commercial Btdletin. 

" One of the gems of the season. ... It is the story of the life of j T oung 
womanhood in France, dramatically told, with the light and shade and 
coloring of the genuine artist, and is utterly Tree from that which mars too 
many French novels. In its literary finish it is well-nigh perfect, indicat- 
ing die hand of the master." — Boston Traveller. 

" The binding is exquisite." — Rochester Union and Advertiser. 



New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



HANDY VOLUMES OF FICTION. 
Each, \imo, flexible cloth, with special design, 75 cents. 

n^HE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE. By GiL- 
bert Parker. 

"To tell such a story convincingly a man must have what I call the 
rarest of literary gifts— -the power to condense. Of the good feeling and 
healthy wisdom of this little tale others no doubt have spoken and will 
speak. But I have chosen this technical quality for praise, because in this 
1 tliink Mr. Parker has made the furthest advance on his previous work. 
Indeed, in workmanship he seems to be improving faster than any of the 
younger novelists." — A. T. Quillejr-Couch, in the London Spectator. 

n^HE FAIENCE VIOLIN. By Champfleury. 
Translated by W. H. Bishop. 

"The style is happy throughout, the humorous parts being well cal- 
culated to bring smiles, while we can hardly restrain our tears when the 
poor enthusiast goes to excesses that have a touch of pathos." — Albany 
Times- Union. 



T 



RUE RICHES. By Francois Coppee. 



" Delicate as an apple blossom, with its limp cover of pale green and its 
stalk of golden-rod, is this little volume containing two stories by Francois 
Coppee. The tales are charmingly told, and their setting is an artistic 
delight." — Philadelphia Btilletin. 

"The author scarcely had a thought of sermonizing his readers, but 
each of these little stories presents a moral not easily overlooked, and 
whose influence lingers with those who read them." — Baltimore A merican. 

A TRUTHFUL WOMAN IN SOUTHERN CALL 
FORA T IA. By Kate Sanborn, author of "Adopting 
an Abandoned Farm," etc. 

"The veracious writer considers the />ros of the 'glorious climate' of 
California, and then she gives the cons. Decidedly the ayes have it. . . . 
The book is sprightly and amiably entertaining. The descriptions have 
the true Sanborn touch of vitality and humor." — Philadelphia Ledger. 

A BORDER LEANDER. By Howard Seely, au- 
thor of "A Nymph of the West," etc. 

" We confess to a great liking for the tale Mr. Seely tells. . . . There 
are pecks of trouble ere the devoted lovers secure the tying of their love- 
knot, and Mr. Seely describes them all with a Texan fla\ or that is iefiesh- 
ing." — New York Times. 

" A swift, gay, dramatic little tale, which at once takes captive 
the reader's sympathy and holds it without difficulty to the end." — 
Charleston News and Courier. 



New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street 



D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



TETANY INVENTIONS. By Rudyard Kipling. 

Containing fourteen stories, several of which are now 

published for the first time, and two poems. I2me, 

427 pages. Cloth, $1.50. 

"The reader turns from its pages with the conviction that the author 
has no superior to-day in animated narrative and virility of style. He re- 
mains master of a power in which none of his contemporaries approach him 
— the ability to select out of countless details the few vital ones which create 
the finished picture. He knows how, with a phrase or a word, to make 
you see his characters as he sees them, to make you feel the full meaning 
of a dramatic situation." — New York Tribune. 

Many Inventions ' will confirm Mr. Kipling's reputation. . . . We 
would cite with pleasure sentences from almost every page, and extract 
incidents from almost every story. But to what end? Here is the com- 
pletest book that Mr. Kipling has yet given us in workmanship, the 
weightiest and most humane in breadth of view." — Pall Mall Gazette. 

" Mr. Kipling's powers as a story-teller are evidently not diminishing. 
We advise everybody to buy ( Many Inventions,' and to profit by some of 
the best entertainment that modern fiction has to offer." — New York Sun. 

" ' Many Inventions ' will be welcomed wherever the English language 
is spoken. . . . Every one of the stories bears the imprint of a master who 
conjures up incident as if by magic, and who portrays character, scenery, 
and feeling with an ease which is only exceeded by the boldness of force." 
— Boston Globe. 

"The book will get and hold the closest attention of the reader." 

— A merican Bookseller. 

"Mr. Rudyard Kipling's place in the world of letters is unique. He 
sits quite aloof and alone, the incomparable and inimitable master of the 
exquisitely fine art of short-story writing. Mr. Robert Louis Stevenson has 
perhaps written several tales which match the run of Mr. Kipling's work, 
but the best of Mr. Kipling's tales are matchless, and his latest collection, 
'Many Inventions,' contains several such." — Philadelphia Press. 

"Of late essays in fiction the work of Kipling can be compared to 
only three — Blackmore's ' Lorna Doone,' Stevenson's marvelous sketch 
of Villon in the ' New Arabian Nights,' and Thomas Hardy's ' Tess of the 
D'Urbervilles.' ... It is probably owing to this extreme care that ' Many 
Inventions ' is undoubtedly Mr. Kipling's best book." — Chicago Post. 

" Mr. Kipling's style is too well known to American readers to require 
introduction, but it can scarcely be amiss to say there is not a story in this 
collection that does not more than repay a perusal of them all." — Baltimore 
A7iierican. 

" As a writer of short stories Rudyard Kipling is a genius. He has had 
imitators, but they have not been successful in dimming the luster of his 
achievements by contrast. . . . ' Many Inventions' is the title. And they 
are inventions — entirely original in incident, ingenious in plot, and startling 
by their boldness and force." — Rochester Herald. 




New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



D. APPLETON & CCS PUBLICATIONS. 



CAMP-FIRES OF A NATURALIST. From the 
Field Notes of Lewis Lindsay Dyche, A. M., M. S., Pro- 
fessor of Zoology and Curator of Birds and Mammals in the 
Kansas State University. The Story of Fourteen Expedi- 
tions after North American Mammals. By Clarence E. 
Edwords. With numerous Illustrations. i2mo. Cloth, 
$1.50. 

" It is not always that a professor of zoology is so enthusiastic a sports- 
man as Prof. Dyche. His hunting exploits are as varied as those of Gor- 
don Cumming, for example, in South Africa. His grizzly bear is as danger- 
ous as the lion, and his mountain sheep and goats more difficult to stalk 
and shoot than any creatures of the torrid zone. Evidently he came by 
his tastes as a hunter from lifelong experience." — New York Tribune. 

"The book has no dull pages, and is often excitingly interesting, and 
fully instructive as to the habits, haunts, and nature of wild beasts." — Chi- 
cago Inter-Ocean. 

" There is abundance of interesting incident in addition to the scien- 
tific element, and the illustrations are numerous and highly graphic as to 
the big game met by the hunters, and the hardships cheerfully under- 
taken." — Brooklyn Eagle. 

"The narrative is simple and manly and full of the freedom of forests. 
. . . This record of his work ought to awaken the interest of the genera- 
tion growing up, if only by the contrast of his active experience of the 
resources of Nature and of savage life with the background of culture and 
the environment of educational advantages that are being rapidly formed 
for the students of the United States. Prof. Dyche seems, from this ac- 
count of him, to have thought no personal hardship or exertion wasted in 
his attempt to collect facts, that the naturalist of the future may be pro- 
vided with complete and verified ideas as to species which will soon be 
extinct. This is good work — work that we need and that posterity will 
recognize with gratitude. The illustrations of the book are interesting, and 
the type is clear." — New York Times. 

"The adventures are simply told, but some of them are thrilling of 
necessity, however modestly the narrator does his work. Prof. Dyche has 
had about as many experiences in the way of hunting for science as fall 
to the lot of the most fortunate, and this recountal of them is most interest- 
ing. The camps from which he worked ranged from the Lake of the Woods 
to Arizona, and northwest to British Columbia, and in every region he 
was successful in securing rare specimens for his museum." — Chicago 
Times. 

"The literary construction is refreshing. The reader is carried into 
the midst of the very scenes of which the author tells, not by elaborateness 
of description but by the directness and vividness of every sentence. He 
is given no opportunity to abandon the companions with which the book 
has provided him, for incident is made to follow incident with no inter- 
vening literary padding. In fact, the book is all action." — Kansas City 
Journal. 



New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



GEORGE H. ELLWANGER'S BOOKS. 

*rHE GARDEN'S STORY; or, Pleasures and Trials 
of an Amateur Gardener. With Head and Tail Pieces by 
Rhead. i6mo. Cloth, extra, $1.50. 

"This dainty nugget of horticultural lore treats of the pleasures and 
tiials of an amateur gardener. From the time when daffodils begin to peer 
and the 'secret of the year' comes in to mid October, Mr. Ellwanger pro- 
vides an outline of hardy flower-garden in g that can be carried on and 
worked upon by amateurs. . . ." — Philadelphia Public Ledger. 

" One of the most charming books of the season. ... It is in no sense 
a text book, but it combines a vast deal of information with a great deal of 
out-of-door observation, and exceedingly pleasant and sympathetic writing 
about flowers and plants." — Christian Union. 

"A dainty, learned, charming, and delightful book. 1 ' — New York Sun. 

n^HE STORY OF MY HOUSE. With an Etched 
Frontispiece by Sidney L. Smith, and numerous Head 
and Tail Pieces by W. C. Greenough. i6mo. Cloth, 
extra, $1.50. 

"An essay on the building of a house, with all its kaleidoscopic possi- 
bilities in the way of reform, and its tantalizing successes before the fact, is 
always interesting; and the author is not niggardly in the good points he 
means to secure. . . . The book aims only to be agreeable ; its literary 
flavor is pervasive, its sentiment kept well in hand." — New York Evening 
Post 

"When the really perfect book of'its class comes to a critic's hands, all 
the words he has used to describe fairly satisfactory ones are inadequate 
for his new purpose, and he feels inclined, as in this case, to stand aside and 
let the book speak for itself. In its own way, it would be hardly possible 
for this daintily printed volume to do better." — Art Amateur. 

TN GOLD AND SILVER. With Illustrations by W. 
Hamilton Gibson, A. B. Wenzell, and W. C. Greenough. 
i6mo. Cloth, $2.00. Also, limited edition de luxe, on 
Japanese vellum, $5.00. 

Contents : The Golden Rug of Kermanshah ; Warders of the Woods; 
A Shadow upon the Pool; The Silver Fox of Hunt's Hollow. 

" After spending a half-hour with ' In Gold and Silver,' one recalls the 
old saying, 'Precious things come in small parcels.'" — Christian Intelli- 
gencer. 

"One of the handsomest gift-books of the year. "—Philadelphia Inquirer. 

" The whole book is eminently interesting, and emphatically deserving 
of the very handsome and artistic setting it has received." — New York 
Tribune. 



New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



D. APPLETCN & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



GOOD BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS. 
r\N THE OLD FRONTIER ; or, The Last Raid of the 
^ Inqiwis. By William O. Stoddard, author of 
" Crowded Out o' Crofield," " Littl e Smoke," " The 
Battle of New York," etc. Illustrated by H. D. Mur- 
phy. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 

In this thrilling story Mr. Stoddard is at his best He describes the 
vicissitudes of the settlers in western New York, which was the frontier of 
the last century, the homely yet adventurous existei.ee at Plum Hollow 
Fort, the plottings of the Iroquois, their assemblage in the great Council 
House, and their final desperate raid. Every American boy and girl 
should read the book for its historical value as well as for its romantic 
interest. 

n"HE BOYS OF GREEN WAY COURT. A Story 
of the Early Years of Washington. By Hezekiah 
Butterworth, author of " In the Boyhood of Lin- 
coln," " The Log School-house on the Columbia," 
" The Zigzag Books," etc. Illustrated by H. W. 
Pierce. i2mo. Cloth, $1 50. 

This is a tale of the famous old manor house of Greenway Court, the 
home of Lord Fairfax, Washington's early patron. It is a book full of 
picturesque incidents and legends, of hunting exploits snd adventures, and 
the figure of the yo mg Washington is shown in these pages in a light 
which will be sure to enlist the interest of young readers. 

C5.O//N BOYD'S ADVENTURES. By Thomas W. 
J Knox, author of " The Boy Travelers," etc. Illus- 
trated by W. S. Stacey. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 

The hero went to sea in the early part of the century, and his adven- 
tures as an Algerine slave, a man of-war's-man, an intended victim of 
Chinese pirates, and as a young hero in other stirring scenes, almost 
encircle the globe, and enable the author to convey much information re- 
garding strange people and countries and the history of troublous times. 

F)4UL JONES. By Molly Elliot Seawell, author 
of " Little Jarvis," " Midshipman Paulding," etc. Illus- 
trated by H. D. Murphy and J. O. Davidson. 
Young Heroes of the Navy Series. i2mo. Cloth, $1.00. 

Paul Jones, the captain who sailed around the British Isles and bade 
defiance to the entire British fleet, is perhaps the most heroic figure in the 
naval history of the Revolution, and readers old and young will welcome 
this thrilling story of his exploits. 

New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



AND-BOOK OF SANITARY INFORMATION 
FOR HOUSEHOLDERS. Containing Facts and Sug- 
gestions about Ventilation, Drainage, Care of Contagious 
Diseases, Disinfection, Food, and Water. By Roger S. 
Tracy, M. D., Sanitary Inspector of the New York City 
Health Department. i6mo. Cloth, 50 cents. 

"Toa householder who desires to learn something of sanitary affairs 
this little book will prove very useful. . . . The salient points are brought 
out prominently by bold-faced type. The summary of the best methods of 
the disposal of sewage under certain conditions is especially good. It is as 
practical and useful a book of the kind as has ever been issued." — Chicago 
Sanitary News. 

p\ ANGERS TO HEALTH : A Pictorial Guide to 
•L-^ Domestic Sanitary Defects. By T. Pridgin Teale, M. A., 
Surgeon to the General Infirmary at Leeds. With 70 Litho- 
graphic Plates. 8vo. Cloth, $3.00. 

" An excellent treatise, which has the advantage of showing by dia- 
grams all the defects in the sanitary arrangements of dwellings, growing 
out of improper construction, faulty ventilation, and defective plumbing. 
Its arguments are its pictures, showing at a glance more plainly the matters 
in hand than pages of written description." — Baltimore A7nerican. 

/OMEN, PLUMBERS, AND DOCTORS; Or, 
Household Sanitation. By Mrs, H. M. Plunkett. 
Showing that, if women and plumbers do their whole sani- 
tary duty, there will be comparatively little occasion for the 
services of the doctors. Illustrated. i2mo. Cloth, $1.25. 

Contents.— Hygienic Houses.— Under the House.— Arrangement of 
the House.— Lighting the House — Wholesome Water.— Sewerage and 
Plumbing.— Sewer-Gas and Germs.— Overlooked Channels of Infection.— 
Our Neighbor's Premises — Public Sanitation. 

SSAYS ON THE FLOATING MATTER OF 
THE AIR, in Relation to Putrefaction and Infection. 
By Prof. John Tyndall, F. R. S. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 

"These essays raise a good deal of new and old dust and dirt to public 
view, and are very conclusive in their proof of the vicious and destructive 
consequences of the same. ... To the wide-awake, common mind a strong 
ray of sunlight shining through a keyhole into the quietest and cleanest 
room, will reveal pretty much all needed evidence that most ' good air,' like 
* pure water,' is very much alive. . . . The work is lucid and convincing, 
yet not prolix or pedantic, but popular and really enjoyable." — Phila- 
delphia Times. 

New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 





D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



rHE CHEMISTRY OF COMMON LIFE. By the 
late Prof. James F. W. Johnston. A new edition, revised 
and enlarged, and brought down to the present time by 
Arthur Herbert Church, M. A., Oxon., author of 
"Food: its Sources, Constituents, and Uses." Illustrated 
with Maps and numerous Engravings. i2mo. Cloth, $2.00. 

Summary of Contents. — The Air we Breathe. — The Water we Drink. 
—The Soil we Cultivate.— The Plant we Rear — The Bread we Eat. — The 
Beef we Cook.— The Beverages we Infuse.— The Sweets we Extract.— 
The Liquors we Ferment.— The Narcotics we Indulge in.— The Poisons 
we Select. — The Odors we Enjoy. — The Smells we Dislike. — The Colors 
we Admire.— What we Breathe and Breathe for.— What, How, and Why 
we Digest. — The Body we Cherish. — The Circulation of Matter. 

ON FOODS. By Edward Smith, M.D., LL.B., F.R.S., 
Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians of London, etc. 
i2mo. Cloth, $1.75. 

"The author extends the ordinary view of foods, and includes water 
and air, since they are important both in their food and sanitary aspects. 
The book contains a series of diagrams, displaying the effects of sleep and 
meals on pulsation and respiration, and of various kinds of food on respira-' 
tion, which, as the results of Dr. Smith's own experiments, possess a very 
high value." — London Examiner. 

7 HE POISON PROBLEM ; or, The Cause and Cure 
of Intemperance. By Felix L. Oswald, M. D., author 
of "Physical Education, " "Household Remedies," etc. 
i2mo. Cloth, 75 cents ; paper, 25 cents. 

"The author's discussion, with the startling array of terrible facts with 
which he fortifies his argument in favor of total abstinence for the individual 
and prohibitory legislation by the State, fullv justifies the- use of his title. 
Temperance reformers and workers will find the book an arsenal of weapons 
for the warfare they are waging on intemperance." — Boston Traveller. 

EAL TH PRIMERS. Edited by J. Langdon Down, 
M. D., F. R.C. P. ; Henry Power, M. B., F. R. C.S.; 
J. JVIortimer Granville, M.D. ; John Tweedy, F.R. 
C. S. In square i6mo volumes. Cloth, 40 cents each. 

I. Exercise and Training — II. Alcohol: Its Use and Abuse. — II T. Pre- 
mature Death: Its Promotion or Prevention. — IV. The House and its 
Surroundings. — V. Personal Appearance in Health and Disease.— VI. Baths 
and Bathing. — VII. The Skin and its Troubles. — VIII. The Heart and 
its Functions. — IX. The Nervous System. 



New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



D. APPLETON & CO.S PUBLICATIONS. 



HAND-BOOKS OF SOCIAL USAGES. 

r*OCIAL ETIQUETTE OF NEW YORK. Re- 

^ written and enlarged. i8mo. Cloth, gilt, $1.00. 

Special pains have been taken to make this work represent accurately 
existing customs in New York s'ociety. The subjects treated are of visiting 
and visiting-cards, giving and attending balls, receptions, dinners, etc., 
debuts, chaperons, weddings, opera and theatre parties, costumes and cus- 
toms, addresses and signatures, and iuneral customs, covering so far as 
practicable all social usages. 

ON' T ; or, Directions for avoiding Improprieties in 
Conduct and Common Errors of Speech. By Censor. 
Parchment- Paper Edition, square iSmo, 30 cents. 
Vest-Pocket Edition, cloth, flexible, gilt edges, red 
lines, 30 cents. Boudoir Edition (with a new chapter 
designed for young people), cloth, gilt, 30 cents. 
130th thousand. 

"Don't" deals with manners at the table, in the drawing-room, and in 
public, with taste in dress, whh personal habits, with common mistakes in 
various situations in life, and with ordinary errors of speech. 



D 



W 



HA T TO DO. A Companion to " Don't." By 
Mrs. Oliver Bell Bunce. Small i8mo, cloth, gilt, 
uniform with Boudoir Edition of " Don't," 30 cents. 

A dainty little book, containing helpful and practical explanations ot 
social usages and rules. It tells the reader how to entertain and how to be 
entertained, and it sets forth the etiquette of engagements and marriages, 
introductions and calls. 

" /^OOD FORM" IN ENGLAND. By An American, 
resident in the United Kingdom. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 

"The raison d'etre of this book is to provide Americans— and especially 
those visiting England — with a concise, comprehensive, and comprehensible 
hand-book which will give them all necessary information respecting 'how 
things are ' in England.' " — From the Pi-eface. 

I NTS ABOUT MEN'S DRESS: Right Principles 

Economically Applied. By a New York Clubman. 

i8mo. Parchment-paper, 30 cents. 

A useful manual, especially for young men desirous of dressing eco- 
nomically and yet according to the canons of good taste. 

New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



H 



89 



